Straight-talking-wise, because I’m unsure as to what will come next, I am about to appreciate and recommend an artist, Happiest Lion, and his album, Mammoth Moon. I will do so with half a head full, just able to get the engine brain started up, power in the fingers – all the more so as I listen and type (maybe you could do the same as you read, it’s that kind of blog unless you know it personally).
Where were you listening to it most?
On a train
How did you download it?
For free (with no option to pay), on Bandcamp
When did he release it?
2010, Happiest Lion is a disbanded artist, it’s archived almost on the WWW.
The songs will identify all the barnacle covered plains that line your ribs and afraid vessels, the flex and muscles, it is the thickest most reliable emotional expressive roped-in folk, sturdy person-sounding array of different moods. Like a bright sunlike buoy, bobbing in the water, then swaying in the wake of the big scaring boats, but never drifting or straying from its cause, its strings, plucked rightly, without the slightest fear, despite all the subject’s still life and all the matter:
When I held your heart, girl I swear I saw it glow in the dark
And now, the Happiest Lion has disappeared to us all, a beautiful mark, so typified by the internet.
Porcelain, pretty in a still-life
Glass ornament, O mine
Sing to me, sweet, but you’re gonna leave singing
He left his lyrics exposed like moles. Each one as beautiful as its constellation as a whole. Blinding rhythm, contagious choir of earthly angelic voice box, confused perfectly in the aforementioned strings, where we catch words and spill hearts, nod beats and shake hands. This warm steaming engine serenade that called me to evening training, where I turned up against a window, wearing nothing but blank cheeks and a billowing cigarette tear. The boys won’t understand tonight, bemused on awkward platforms, but the Happiest Lion can ride me away with a smile on the back of my head, as we nit the moon and flee the sun, little creatures of our imagination – beautiful 2014 discovery of past living music
Bear’s brood, why you test my beet stew?
Why you steal my honeydew?
Why you love your cubs true
Love and long like I do?
Why you make me flee the camp
Brute, bold and honey-bellied
Fair breeze, who kissed me kindly?
Cload boats, sail idly, ivory
Moss rock, totem towering, bring shelter when the gale rage
Right on; I have never strung along lyrics to this extent before on this page, but I feel absolutely no fear, no shame in doing so for this man’s music, partly because instead of crudely alienating the words and the message from the music, these severed citations mimic the very true feel and sound of the songs. This man of Happiest Lion, Caleb, fulfils the greatest law of song-writing by seamlessly fusing written word with song, without awkwardness. He fulfils it more than most.
I must leave it there beautiful: it aches that this is 4 years old music and no word of this Moniker has appeared really, since. Food for a train of thought; now it’s a midnight feast, and we are allowed the happiest, contented at least.