Everett True

Song of the day – 466: Helen Scott

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Helen Scott

This is how it works. Someone comes here, reads something and recommends some other music based on what they’ve read. I check it out, not caring even if it’s a record company plant, long as the recommendation is done with courtesy, love and a little flair, and …

So here we are again. Back in Athens, GA. A town rich with an embarrassment of melody and weirdness. This time with a band named after a loved Australian TV actress. Four ladies. (Are there *any* all-male groups in Athens GA?) Four ladies with a fondness for pastoral elegance, and harmonising with those sort of trilling harmonies that so endeared me to my postcard-pal Jane Fox from Grab Grab The Haddock during the mid 80s.

Wait a second. I have just become unreasonably diverted.

Sorry. Where were we? Ah yes. Athens GA. Home to … I was going to write a line of bullshit here, trying to capture the essence of Athens GA, but truth is I know little to nothing of the town, merely Inside/Out, a few whispered summons, the writings of Vanessa and Scott and Mike and Brigette … less than Aberdeen (Scotland), say. That’s all monolithic beautiful slabs of grey and massive thoroughfares, cold student halls: in my mind, a little like the centre of pre-Iron Curtain Warsaw. Sorry. Diverted again.

This music, this Helen Scott music (the name a slight tribute to Helen Love, perhaps?), floats and trills along, seems like little could be done that would upset not even wanton accusations of winsomeness or quirkiness. There’s enough oblique smoothed edges and little pieces of sound to keep me happy. A track for a mix tape for a warmer day, perhaps.

You can find them here.

This is my favourite.

Mostly I like them because they look and sound like the kind of people I’ll never know.

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