WHITE LIGHTER DOWNLOAD CARD IS INCLUDED WITH VINYL***
Typhoon - White Lighter CD - $12.99
Typhoon - White Lighter Vinyl (Black Vinyl) + Download Card - $19.99
Typhoon CD Bundle - $29.99 ($5 savings)
A New Kind of House CD, Hunger & Thirst CD, White Lighter CD
Typhoon LP Bundle - $52.99 ($8 savings)
A New Kind of House on Translucent Brown Vinyl, Hunger & Thirst on Orange Vinyl, Common Sentiments 7", White Lighter Gatefold on Black Vinyl
*All LPs include digital download cards.
Set for an August 20th release on Roll Call Records, White Lighter is the follow up to the bands acclaimed EP A New Kind Of House that caught the attention of countless music critics and listeners for what NPR’s Bob Boilen calls “absolutely stunning” and “so beautiful, it make’s me want to follow every single thing Typhoon does.”
Recorded at Pendarvis Farm in Happy Valley, Oregon, Typhoon isolated themselves from outside distractions to arrange and record this collection of songs with an impressive emphasis on storytelling and melody. “On the farm, we were living inside the record” says songwriter Morton. “I had one place in the woods where I would write and rewrite one song, and a different place for working another. The whole thing was laid out spatially over so many acres. I built a small fort in the wood barn where I kept my books and guitar. Slept a couple feet away from the recording desk. When it was cold, we built wood fires, when it was warm we went swimming down the road. Friends came and went, sometimes recording with us.”
Produced by the band along with their in-house engineer Paul Laxer, Typhoon created a dynamic recording – full of horns, strings and group vocal crescendos – that will establish the band as an immensely creative force.
An inspiring hybrid of literate lyrics and wide ranging pop music – new songs such as first single “Young Fathers,” “Possible Deaths,” “Prosthetic Love” and “Hunger And Thirst” – take listeners on a journey through the experience of having it all, fighting to keep the dream and accepting your fate. “There are several layers to this new record” says Morton. “It’s definitely the most autobiographical record I’ve ever done. I’m also trying to reconstitute disparate experiences into something like a meaningful sequence in the pale light of truth.”
Along with Rolling Stone, Entertainment Weekly, NPR, Alternative Press and more, Paste Magazine raves “Music critics throw around adjectives like ‘orchestral’ and ‘expansive’ all the time these days. But here’s a band that actually deserves such labels. Portland’s Typhoon is an indie rock geek’s dream: a dynamic 12-piece with a seemingly unending reservoir of energy, emotive vocals, arpeggiated guitars, horns, multiple drum kits and strings … Ladies and gentlemen, meet your new critical darlings.”
A letter from Kyle Morton, singer and song-writer of Typhoon.
I don’t remember much, but I remember this one thing with clarity.
I was in the backyard looking up at my father; he was bent over raking leaves, explaining to me over his shoulder what it meant to be a good man–to keep your word and do the work you set out to do. I was a child then and the words were a mystery, having little conception of what kind of man I would be, what sort of work I would do or how I would set about doing it. A few years later, as all my friends were entering adolescence, I got sick. Mine was puberty with a vengeance.
In my last letter I made mention of my illness. Since then I have been asked about it often and feel I should elaborate on its significance. The illness itself offers a tempting narrative hook, but while it is romantic to dwell on the individual suffering, what matters is the universal implication: Once on the other side one finds that there are no sides, that there exists no great partition between sickness and health, only various stages of dying and various ways of surviving that death.
This discovery had on me the effect of leveling all logical binaries to be replaced by ambivalence–not only could I not tell the difference between sickness and heath, but had further difficulty telling friends from enemies, progress from regress, love from resentment, sometimes even women from men. I realized that if I were to accomplish anything it would be to recover some kind of meaning in what my friend Zach Schomburg called the Wild Meaninglessness. You can consider it one very bewildered man’s attempt to explain the universe, to himself, in the language of bewilderment.
I had a lot of help. Without my friends in typhoon this music would have never reached your ears. It is thanks to them that these songs are songs and not just a bunch of quasi-apocalyptic ramblings. We recorded them on a farm in Happy Valley, OR while we lived there for a short, utopian six weeks in the spring and summer of 2012. The record is a collection of seminal life moments, in more or less chronological order, glimpsed backwards in the pale light of certain death, brought to life by a remarkable group of people who hold as I do that the work is somehow important.
When we started working on White Lighter, I had reason to believe that it would be the last thing I ever did.
It is now six months since we finished. I’m still here and there’s still work to be done.
- k.r.m. 6.21.2013