L'anarchiste ep

by L'anarchiste

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  • Digital Album

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1.
07:26
2.
08:42
3.
03:38
4.
06:54
5.
05:28

about

This short album is a collection of ideas both musical and lyrical that I've worked on over the last year or so, through a lot of late nights and long weekends. I've devoted a lot of careful thought to these songs and I sincerely hope that you enjoy them.


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"The Beehive State isn’t exactly like Seattle, or LA when it comes to producing well-known musicians. Not yet.  L’anarchiste is looking to change that, and quickly... This is a very new band, and few such fledgling groups accomplish such depth and complexity so quickly."
- Sound Citizen



"With 5 songs totalling over 30 minutes, it’s no punk rock, and usually anything over 5 minutes is a struggle for me – but I found when listening to the 8 minutes and 42 seconds of ‘Iron’ on their self title EP I actually found myself not wanting the song to end."
- Choose My Music, UK



"If all goes as planned, expect to hear a lot more from the fledgling band L’anarchiste. Eclectic, complex and a big bowl of folk for breakfast, L’anarchiste’s EP is a year’s worth of fine tuning by Robert LeCheminant... To the uncouth ear, L’anarchiste sounds like Sufjan Stevens, which is, in many ways, an asset. What draws L’anarchiste and Stevens into commonality is not only the solid brass back-up and dissident vocal harmony, but the attention to detail. Tracks like “Stony” and “Sleep” sound warm and round, and focus on tonal construction. It is clear that LeCheminant has spent a great deal of time on the EP’s production... If you are a fellow folker, I suggest you seek this one out."
- SLUG Magazine


"This is probably one of the most endearing albums that I have ever listened to. The EP feels absolutely effortless and that is its greatest charm."
- Out of our System


"I think the best way to describe this band is “effortful minimalism” -- sounds like an oxymoron, right? Well, it takes a lot to show self restraint. Think of Phillip Glass if he were a 20-something indie rocker. OK, that might be a stretch. But L’anarchiste takes cues from Sufjan Stevens as far as incorporating distinct tones, while also reminiscent of Bon Iver and Local Natives -- and, to a lesser degree, Arcade Fire - -with their use of counter melodies and interesting phrasings that come in and out like waves. This can be an articulation that requires the span of seven minutes of song, something that not a lot of bands would dare to do."
- City Weekly, SLC

credits

released 20 December 2011

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about

From quiet, soaring melodies to huge orchestral swells, L'anarchiste started from humble beginnings in the basement of Rob LeCheminant and has blossomed into a full-fledged group playing their folk influenced, genre-bending music. In a short span of time, they have performed from local venues to SXSW in Austin, TX and have been featured on programs ranging from RadioWest to MTV. ... more

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Track Name: Stony
O, that stony companion
I held in my hand that summer day.
What, two hearts would be broken
and mended in another way.

So I called out to find you,
and through the wind you said my name.
And in that old stony memory,
I felt in my hand the summer rain.

With an honest conviction
I said to myself "I'm gonna stay."
Who could say what would happen?
Well, I found in my heart felicity.

We're not all the same.
We're not all the same.
I'm a man of wire,
rusted and frail.

We're not all the same.
We're not all the same.
You are golden and wild,
a cloudburst's cool rain.

Someday
I'll know
just what
this means.
For now
I'll wait
while my
heart beats.
Track Name: Iron
Cool waters flow
down the hillside
through the briars.
The trees quake hard
in the tempest,
oh in the windstorm.

Leaves paint the hard ground
a torrid green and red,
and by the midnight hour
all their bones will be left bare.

All that I can see here,
it won't be,
oh it won't be,
it won't be,
oh it won't be,
it can't be
steady.

I'll be damned
if I run.
Only you
hold me up.
Only you
hold me close.
Only you
give me love.

Over near the dry oak
there's a field
made of iron,
where nothing grows
but the beams of,
of broken memories
of dreams
of my youth,
and my hope
and my false hopes
and my love.
Oh now I'm alone.

Now I'm free.
Now I'm saved.
Or none of these.
And still I long
to know why
I'm here.
Maybe I'll never know.


But winds calm.
The rain falls softly on my face,
the bees hum,
birds sing their bright song.
True to form I've thought to bury
my in tents in dirt.
Still this water prompts the interred
aspirations grow.
Sun breaks clouds,
ignites the earth and
oh my God, it's you!
Only you could.
Only you could.
Only you would.

I look up to feel warmth on my face
and then the earth it quakes.

You, you moved me.
Tell me how.
Oh I need to know!
Track Name: Lights
It's been a long, long time
since I felt this
It happened once before
but it left me
I gazed out at the clouds
I thought I saw you
I took in all the view
but then it faded

o now it's cold outside
and it's beautiful
but in the city's lights
there's a haunting glow
that shook to the core
and cut me to the bone
so in these crumbling walls
can I find a home
Track Name: Sleep
And we'll drive for miles and miles
with our canvas and clothes beside us.
And we won't look back
at all we've left behind.

And we won't tell anyone
where it is we're going.
Oh it's just you and me.
It's just you and me.

And though the moon shines
on the dirt,
through the hands of another
we will go.

With the sound of
the wind and water,
we will go to a city
called Sleep.
Track Name: Gaucho
the bootstraps, saddle, flag unfurled
sore blisters on his hands and feet
with skin like sandstone, eyes black pearls
stood by the cottage where he sleeps

a howl, a whimper in the air
the creak of wooden walls in wind
serve as his fanfare as he parts
to greet his end

the gaucho rides on through the hills
where he abides to buy some time
to live among the rocks and trees
another day

where stony sentinals watch by
there he abides to taste the breeze
where rocks and trees touch endless sky
we steal his life for our TVs

he's waiting for a falling star
we're waiting for our flying cars
and with our hearts in all these dreams
we treat his things as make-believe