This past summer, Canadian singer, guitarist, and songwriter Chad Ross released the solo album, Skull Creator (review here), through Ramble Records, Echodelick Recordings and NoiseAgonyMayhem, working under the all-caps moniker C.ROSS. He’s probably best known as the vocalist/guitarist of Toronto drift-psych heroes Quest for Fire, whose two full-lengths, 2009’s Quest for Fire and 2010’s Lights From Paradise (discussed here, review here), remain treasures to be sought, and the subsequent Comet Control, which has expanded the scope the prior outfit laid out, working in elements of space rock and other styles on 2014’s Comet Control (review here), 2016’s Center of the Maze (review here) and 2021’s Inside the Sun (review here), all of which, like Quest for Fire‘s albums, were issued through Tee Pee Records.

But his mostly-off-again-not-so-much-on-again incarnation, Nordic Nomadic, actually precedes or at least coincides even Quest for Fire, releasing this self-titled debut on CD in 2007 via Blue Fog Recordings. At that point, Ross was coming off his time in the more indie-minded The Deadly Snakes, so the unplugged-grunge vibe of Nordic Nomadic was something of a departure on the purposefully quiet, mostly-unplugged grunge of “Living Arrangements” and the presciently nodding proto-roll in album opener “The World’s Slowest Man,” on which Paul Vernon‘s drums are a spacious highlight behind Ross‘ own exploratory guitar and soft vocals. Volume swells on “A Child’s Eyes,” which feels a little hurried in comparison to the leadoff it directly follows, and hand-percussion on “Elk Horn Pyramid,” string sounds on “The Weather in Your Mind” and the standalone guy-and-guitarism of “Grey” assure that the 10-song/43-minute offering, touching on Americana in “Nice Young Man” and the pedal steel (credited to Dale Murray)-inclusive closer “Clouds That Spell My Name,” which is the longest inclusion at 6:25 and rises to an understated but engrossing jam before it’s done.

Through it all, flow remains central. The songs, recorded by Paul Aucoin at Hallamusic and Josh Bauman at 206 Dunn, both in Toronto, are drawn together despite varying intents through Ross‘ voice and the contemplative feel of the guitar work that’s mostly at their foundation, but they work outward from there to be sure, and along multiple paths, be it the woodsy fingerpicking of “Grey” or the full-band, organ-driven, multiple-vocal-layered “Ruby Rose,” which along with “The World’s Slowest Man” feels like a direct precursor to some of what Quest for Fire would offer a few years later. Nordic Nomadic‘s tunes are warm if not always completely molten and acid-soaked, and the subtle shifts in arrangement throughout the self-titled make it feel all the more like the material was built up in the studio, the songs worked on and pushed forward — Aucoin is also credited with “vibes” on the Bandcamp page from whence the player above comes, and that might be what that means (it also might not) — and set in motion patiently following after an ideal sound that’s neither too much nor too little, except where it wants to be one or the other, as in the incoming tide of distortion at the end of “Elk Horn Pyramid” or the door-left-open far-back feel of “The Weather in Your Mind,” contrasted almost immediately by the penultimate “NxNx” with its brighter guitar, emergent pedal steel and straightforward kit drums.

And in light of Skull Creator, as well as his work this past decade in Comet Control, there are hallmarks of Ross‘ style that pop up throughout Nordic Nomadic, whether it’s the declining progression of guitar at the two-minute mark in “NxNx” or the overarching patience with which the material is brought forth, each cut given its space and placed well to make the entire front-to-back experience more fluid. I don’t know the timing on Ross and his The Deadly Snakes bandmate Andrew Moszynski — who released an LP this year with the more garage-minded Strange Colours called Future’s Almost Over — joining Quest for Fire, but there are seeds throughout Nordic Nomadic‘s self-titled of what would become that group’s hallmarks, and the mellow and melodic procession of these songs, though none of them is especially long in itself with the opener and closer bookending as the two longest, manage a delicate balance of sounding fleshed out but not indulgent. They have what they need and not much more, and that need changes almost on a per-song basis, as it would if they were people, needing and wanting different things with different perspectives. Maybe that’s what it means for an album to sound alive. If so, this one does.

In covering the new record, I sprung for a CD of Nordic Nomadic‘s Nordic Nomadic — the project also released Worldwide Skyline (review here) in 2011 through Tee Pee — and it’s been waiting to close out a week ever since. When it came down to it, I didn’t want to let this year end without writing about it. I found it interesting that Ross, who discussed leaving Toronto a bit in an interview here last year, opted to put Skull Creator in his name rather than under the Nordic Nomadic moniker, since that seemed to be the place he returned to between one band and the next, whether it was The Deadly Snakes and Quest for Fire or Quest for Fire and Comet Control, whose future after three records and the aforementioned move I don’t know, but the mood-heavy spirit of Nordic Nomadic remains distinct atmospherically, whatever it might share in common with what came after, and the intimacy of its tracks imbued by the mostly quiet, light-on-effects vocals creates a quiet conversation that rewards repeat listens, even these 15 years after the album’s initial release. What is time anyway.

As always, I hope you enjoy if you’re reading this. I know it’s not exactly the most raucous of closures to have it as the last post for the year, but to be honest with you, it’s the kind of party I’m looking for right now and it’s something I’ve enjoyed getting to know better in the months since I picked it up. Maybe you’ll find yourself feeling similar. If not, there’s always next year, and if you didn’t hear Skull Creator, that’s on Bandcamp here.

Thanks for reading.

—

Kid’s been up early all week. Like, pre-5AM. And he’s come downstairs, plopped himself on the couch next to me, and said each time, “Daddy, can we watch Sesame Street now?” because he knows that if he doesn’t specify when the action is taking place, I’ll keep trying to sneak out sentences writing. I’ve been putting him back to bed if it’s 5:30 or earlier, because otherwise he’s basically done with the day at 2PM and the stretch from then until 7:30PM bedtime is a wreck. As I write this, it’s 6:20AM and he’s still asleep. Yesterday we went for a long walk in the relatively nice weather and played on the playground. I’ve never known someone whose well-being is almost singularly placed on whether or not they’re able to move their body. Dude needs to go, and has, basically since he was conscious enough to need anything other than oxygen and sustenance.

He’s been off from school as well, so that’s been a throwoff of routine. He goes back on Tuesday, which means I need to get through Monday and Tuesday on the two-week Quarterly Review to come while balancing that with taking care of him. Nothing I haven’t done before, but still gonna see if the babysitter (whom he loves) can come hang out on Monday for a while. They wreck shit together and my cleaning up afterward is worth the tradeoff of being able to get a couple good hours of writing in. You have to find ways to make these things work or they simply won’t.

Here he comes downstairs. Fine. I’ll take it.

I also hope to have the year-end poll results up on Monday, so please look for that.

You’ll pardon me if I’m light on grand reflections on the year’s end. This year had its ups and downs, like everything. I’m glad to have live music back, and I said earlier this year that I was worried that I was living the best times of my life right now, something I’ve always considered in the future. I’m working to appreciate these times as they happen. I remind myself all the time, and more often I still fail. I’m overwhelmed, I’m tired or I’m sad, or the persistent feeling-wrong in my own body is just too much. But I’ve got this house, I’m alive, my family is mostly healthy, myself included even with that knee surgery and the residual discomfort. These are things to appreciate. Blessings that in my better moments I remember to count, even though sometimes it feels like there’s a barrier between me and feeling good about any of it. That’s life.

So, Quarterly Review for the next two weeks. I’ve timed it poorly. There are a couple premieres that were already slated that I’ll need to do as well — it’s a different mindset going from doing 10 reviews at 150-200 words and digging into a video or something else; I’ve found that transition difficult at times in the past — but they’ll happen and survival is all but assured, even as I expect starting next Tuesday a whole bunch of album and tour announcements for Spring will happen as the music industry picks up after its general holiday break. So it goes. I’ll do my best.

No Gimme show today, but I’ll have ep. 101 next Friday. Pretty wild they keep letting me do that.

If you do up New Year’s as a thing, I wish you good times and safe celebrating, and I hope you have a great weekend either way. I’ll be glad to be in bed by 9PM on Saturday, maybe vacuum at some point in the next couple days. That’s how we (or at least I) party down these days: lightly stoned, probably doing dishes.

I need to check in with Dave MiBK, but I’m hoping to have some new merch at some point. My Bandcamp funds are nil and I didn’t have the PayPal credit I thought I did when I bought Quest for Fire’s demo off Discogs yesterday for $35 with money from my account that I don’t really have to spare. So it goes.

Great and safe weekend. Again, thanks for reading and here’s to more to come. See you next year.

FRM.

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Stepping somewhat outside his role as the frontman and guitarist for Toronto psychedelic pasture-izers Quest for Fire, Chad Ross is the sole figure behind the unsurprisingly more minimal Nordic Nomadic. He released a self-titled album under the moniker after starting the project in 2007 and makes his debut on Tee Pee (also Quest for Fire’s label, by odd coincidence) with Worldwide Skyline – an album whose title speaks to its breadth. Fans of the bedroom neo-folk of Comets on Fire guitarist Ben Chasny’s ongoing Six Organs of Admittance will recognize and delight in at least some of what Ross has on offer with these nine songs, the drone and subtle interweaving of electric and acoustic guitars and still somewhat lush feel undercutting the notion of Nordic Nomadic as a “solo project.” It is that, though, on the most superficial level; Ross is the only one in the band and is responsible for all the material. Anyone who was touched by Ross’ gentle melodicism on either Quest for Fire’s 2009 self-titled or last year’s Lights From Paradise will find spiritual companion in his work here, as the vocals are brought even more to the forefront by the inherent lack of other layers surrounding. Nordic Nomadic, for its relative want of personnel, does still sound lush, and could just as easily be branded psych as folk. As such, no reason to limit it to one or the other: Psychedelic folk.

There’s a self-consciousness at play on Worldwide Skyline, or at very least some self-awareness in how it’s structured. Ross opens the album with its title-track, which in turn is introduced by large swinging gates of distorted guitar that seem to open to the field of the acoustic song itself. It’s hard to imagine the grandeur of the electrified opening wasn’t intentional on Ross’ part. To his credit as a songwriter, he blends the acoustic and electric guitars gorgeously throughout, playing them off each other in well-constructed, well-mixed layers beginning right with “Worldwide Skyline.” His vocals follow a similar course, somehow managing to sound lush and humble at the same time on the shorter, more solo-feeling “The Future’s Fear” (2:30). Like most of the work here, it’s not upbeat or hooky enough to really qualify as “catchy,” but the standout quality (and surprising diversity) of the songwriting makes some of these tracks genuinely memorable. That might be true of “Worldwide Skyline” more than “The Future’s Fear,” but the finger-plucked strings of Ross’ acoustic toll like bells and excellently transition back into the droning electrics of “Growin’ Horns,” which highlights the major ambient crux of Worldwide Skyline with an atmosphere that’s open to interpretation either as bright, sunny and sepia or lonely. The wistful melody in the vocals comes through strikingly in the verse, but the soft inclusion of synth and the memento mori of effected electric guitar does well to add an element of darkness. It’s a sunset over some landscape that never existed, and Ross takes time with “Growin’ Horns” that he didn’t on “The Future’s Fear” to revel in the instrumentation.

“Bite to Chew” opens with the line “I read the news today,” which inevitably sets off the Beatles alarm (Quest for Fire showed some Beatles influence in the guitar work late on Lights From Paradise as well), but the song is altogether more psychedelically lush and less poppy than “A Day in the Life” or anything else from that era of the band’s discography. Interestingly, the song forms a sort of linear progression to Worldwide Skyline of longer tracks that begins with the opener and ends with later album highlight, “Listen to the Leaves.” The three are Ross’ only cuts over five minutes in length, and each sets a kind of landmark for the rest of the songs to hinge themselves upon; it’s easy to listen to the songs surrounding in the context of their position relative to the longer songs, in other words. The runtime disparity isn’t so huge – apart from “The Future’s Fear,” everything is within the three-to-five-minute range – but Ross fleshes the longer material out more (maybe this is obvious, since he’s taking extra time to do it, but the arrangements seem more complex as well) and really hones in on a creative vibe with these three tracks in a way that the rest of Worldwide Skyline seems to complement. And if that’s true, then the two-song to three-song ratio between “Worldwide Skyline” and “Bite to Chew” and “Bite to Chew” and “Listen to the Leaves” speaks to Ross’ expectation of the listener being that much more engaged in the album by the time it shifts through its sweetly bluesy “Summer Friends” centerpiece. That turns out to be precisely the case.

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