Kevin Morby - I Hear You Calling (Bill Fay cover)

"From This Shelter" is the first single from Shelter of a Song, the new solo acoustic album from Portland, Maine's LISA/LIZA. Orindal Records will release Shelter of a Song on vinyl, compact disc & digital formats on November 20, 2020.

orindal.com

Rain like a whistle 
Rain like a signal 
Magnolia singing through a crescent moon
Then singing on through the shelter of a song.
 
It’s just love I couldn’t possibly erase,
from this shelter, from this place,
From this shelter, from this place.

It’s just love I couldn’t possibly erase, 
From this shelter, from this plane
From this shelter, from this plane.

Then, my heart-
It felt just like a heavy balloon,
And they tell you all your life “search for that infinite sound”.
When no one else is around, 
You hear it too, 
in the shelter of a song.

It’s just love I couldn’t possibly erase,
From this shelter from this place.
From this shelter from this place.

It’s just love I couldn’t possibly erase,
From this shelter from this plane.

From this shelter from this plane.

Shelter of a Song

From This Shelter by Lisa/Liza

Recollections

Angel From Montgomery

Release 16th September on Big Indie Records

I Meant What I Said

Orions Belte - Lotus

TRY / Tratar de Transformar

Why Wait Until Tomorrow

In Order to Know You

Deep Throat Choir - Alchemilla

From Dark's Teas sophomore self titled album out April 30th on Fire Talk.

Buy: https://ffm.to/darktea

Dark Tea

Dark Tea - Deanna

was in 1996 that Jay-Jay Johanson, a young man from a cold climate, fascinated by the Bristol sound they called trip-hop and Portishead in particular, first tapped delicately on our eardrums.
The intoxicating album that definitively put this rare and elegant Swede on the map was called Whiskey. It was the beginning of an enthralling adventure. In only a few songs he revealed a family tree that spread its roots far and wide: on one branch Lee Hazlewood, or pop from Talk Talk or Nilsson, on the other John Coltrane with Johnny Hartman, and a whole army of calm jazz or symphonic
recordings sampled from everywhere imaginable.
Almost 20 years later he has returned with an
incredible new album. This new release is called Opium and it contains the very essence of Johanson’s music: an ease with inventing melodies, a voice that gently caresses, and the jacked up, heady rhythms that lift and carry the songs. From the peaceful harmonica opening of Drowsy / Too Young To Say Good Night to the smoke-wreathed love song I Don’t Know Much About Loving, via titles with a sporadic and light groove (NDE, Alone Too Long), Opium is a courageous offering. Johanson opens his heart with
fearlessness and modesty, gracefully lowering his guard and evoking the questions that torment men of his age: love, solitude, immaturity. The songwriting is unerring, the words have a suppressed poetry. This
new Johanson is the work of a guy who has survived the avalanches, who is no longer looking for answers and is content to sketch out the perspectives in as many songs. Some titles are serious (Harakiri), but others immediately take up the reins casting a more
gentle, peaceful light, like Scarecrow, a collaboration with Robin Guthrie that would not have sounded out of place on a Cocteau Twins album, or of the strange positivity of Be Yourself or I Love Him So.
The strength of Opium is that it asks questions that don’t necessarily have an answer; it offers a collection of songs freed from any certitude but which convince
through their modesty, through their precision.
In short, Jay-Jay at his best.

Why Wait Until Tomorrow

JAY-JAY JOHANSON