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Shelly Blake - Discourse & Correspondence (2006)
"With Discourse and Correspondence, Blake has offered us an innovative and unique collection of dark songs. His well-achieved works make a strong case for him as an up and coming influential musician one whos not afraid to step outside of the lines and do things differently. From traditional to avant-garde, Blakes compositions, while often simple and straightforward, run the gamut and leave little room to question his dexterity. He certainly seems incapable of becoming a sensation in the next big thing way of Clap Your Hands Say Yeah or even Wolf Parade, but like Daniel Johnston or Roky Erikson before him, he stands a chance at having an affect on more attentive and attuned fans of music." - URBAN POLLUTION "What strikes me the most is the distinctly American sound of the album, something infused with country and the singer/songwriter tradition, plus the hint of religion, of drinking gin and whiskey, self-deprecation, patriarchal self-doubt, etc... These are good things, dark things, American things... It's weird, and I like weird. His voice is distinct, a touch abstract, just like his lyrics..." - WUAG (Greensboro, NC) "Open your mouth too wide and cherries fall out. No? Is it just me? Me and Shelly Blake. More cherries fall out of his mouth than mine - and more cherry-pits. He sings sloppy and achey, Daniel Johnston in a wagon with the dude from OMC's 'How Bizarre'. Eventually he introduces the electric guitar and this is a moment that you know, this is a moment that is familiar. It's when you're at the Scrabble tournament and you've just spelled the word 'singersongwriter' and there's a squawking sound, a brief electric buzz. You look up and there's a stork in the corner, long-legged, bearing an electric guitar. He stops playing, he looks at you, he blinks his eyes. 'Yeah, what?' he seems to be saying, in stork. And when you look back down the word 'singersongwriter' has been changed, either by cheating or by some obscure rule. And your tiles now say: 'Elope, elope, elope, elope!'" - SAID THE GRAMOPHONE