Become a member || Login
Sleeping Patterns

Jordie Lane
Sleeping Patterns

(Buy mp3s)
Click to add the CD to your shopping bag

Not Built To Last EP

Jordie Lane
Not Built To Last EP

Fool For Love - (Digital Single)

Jordie Lane
Fool For Love - (Digital Single)

Blood Thinner

Jordie Lane
Blood Thinner

Lovers Ride

Jordie Lane
Lovers Ride

Jeff Jenkins, MAG 2009

Young man, old soul. Jordie Lane is in his early 20s, but he sounds like an old-school troubadour, a man with a million stories to tell. His debut solo album follows two EPs, and an album as part of the duo Fireside Bellows. Producers Jeff Lang and Tim Hall provide a wonderful simplicity, allowing Lane's voice to shinw.He sings: "When your lights won't turn on and you're left in the darkness and your mid starts to race headlong into loneliness..." File next to Brendan Welsh's similarly impressive debut album, The Gleamer.

Simon Winkler. Triple R 2009

The debut full-length of Melbourne musician Jordie Lane, Sleeping Patterns is a captivating collection of stories sung in Jordie's arresting style, and drawing upon folk, western and other acoustic traditions. Co-produced by Jeff Lang and Tim Hall and featuring guest appearances from local roots artists Ashley Davies, Jeff Lang, Laura Jean, and Liz Stringer, the album is a beautiful showcase of the immense talent at the heart of the project.

SanTCH, FasterLouder Live Review, NSC June 27, 2009

‘Who has brought a sleeping bag?’ asked Jordie Lane, as he joked about the possibility of everyone having a sleepover at the club and about stealing sandwiches from the bartenders. Jordie Lane’s voice is undoubtedly irresistible. It feels like an old friend you’ve met in your dreams during the night before. The room was soon packed with everyone standing shoulder to shoulder and the stage was alive with dancing lights. But what captivated me was the look in Jordie Lane’s eyes as he delivered each word of every song. Lane always looked far into the distance as he sang, as if he knew perfectly well where he was and where he wanted to go. Lane made a comment earlier in the night, ‘Sometimes you wake up in places you really shouldn’t.’
I Could Die Looking At You was a crowd favourite, which matched the performance of other ballads such as Clearer You’ll See and Love Has Locked the Door, reminiscent of Ryan Adams and Rufus Wainwright. Lane performed the song When You Grow that he wrote in his shed where ‘all of you guys can come stay tonight,’ he said to the crowd. The song featured Anita Quayle’s alluring performance on the cello. ARIA winning guitarist and producer of Lane’s album, Sleeping Patterns, Jeff Lang refrained from stealing the show, as he only performed twice on stage with Jordie Lane and the band. Lane told the story of how both of him and Lang first talked about recording an album together. He thanked Lang for realising that dream.
The encore was slightly short of a thundering applause. Lane went easy on the crowd and came back in only after a few seconds saying, ‘Does seem silly, doesn’t it? Oh so good for the ego…Michael Jackson song, did you say?’ He introduced a new balled, Annabelle Marie which was his only solo performance of the night. It was like a lullaby and a prelude to the final number, Walking That Way where Jeremy Edwards and the Dust Radio band, Liz Stringer as well as John Lane joined in together.
Lane was a burst of sunshine throughout the gig, smiling all the way to his ear lobes, literally like a proud, loving father who charmed the crowd. It was like a folk festival during the acappella of the chorus. The audience chimed in singing repeatedly, ‘Way Hey! Blow the man down! Way Hey!’

Chris Wood, The Dwarf 2009

Jordie Lane is just one of those musical oddities. He cannot be explained easily using words. The character that emerges from his music reads more than a few sentences. Listening to his contemplatively mellow tones, you are hit with the sound of a man further advanced in his musical journey than his age would otherwise have suggested. At twenty-five years of age, he appears to have a firm grip on a style that takes others a lifetime to come to terms with.

It’s arguable that Sleeping Patterns is a much more cohesive work, with strong indicators that Lane has come along in leaps and bounds. Not only has he progressed with his songwriting, he has also shown signs of improvement with his production. Compared to his other musical project Fireside Bellows, Lane’s debut solo effort is bigger on production values and heralds the onset of a much more personal journey.
Lane’s voice is a voice that commands respect. It has with it the solemnity of wisdom and experience, as well as the exuberance of youth. When you consider his age years it makes the overall journey of his music that much more compelling.
He succeeds where so many others of his ilk fail. He engages with the listener with such clarity. In the folk genre the artist can become too inwardly focused and as a result, lose the audience in a sea of self-indulgent murkiness. With Lane’s overall lyrical dexterity, he is a natural teller of stories. The audience can’t help but listen. He commands it.
It’s Lane’s willingness to experiment with light-hearted humour that also makes Sleeping Patterns and all-round success. Not limited to his dalliances with humour, he also experiments with other polarized areas of melody and verse, managing to straddle a delicate balance between heart-warming ballad and ball tearing madness with great effect.
After winning a Vic Rocks grant, he has managed to bolster his uniquely hearty sound with all manner of organs, fiddles and country associated madness. And the end result proves the money has been well invested.

The Publicans Daughter serves as a solemn warning to the protagonist. The War Rages On delves into the troubles of the forgotten often forgotten in Vietnam, while the soothing The Day I Leave This Town offers a brutally honest view of the uncertainty of maturation. The most exciting and visceral experience on Sleeping Patterns is John W Thistle. Although it’s been done, it still remains a whole lot of fun. The strained vocals are reminiscent of early Dillon, while the Hammond organ offers nothing less than pure adrenalin for the listener.

The importance of Sleeping Patterns cannot be understated. It shows that with the right assistance, a talented artist is capable of amazing work when afforded the right opportunities. It’s with this assistance that Jordie Lane has had the means to create his vision with as much accuracy and clarity as possible. Hopefully it is with Sleeping Patterns that a long and fruitful career for Lane is established. One gets the feeling that we certainly haven’t heard the last from him just yet.

Chris Johnston, The Age (Melbourne) Magazine

The millionth roots revival continues at a steady pace in Melbourne with this often-astonishing debut from young blues/folk singer Jordie Lane, still only 24 years old. The record was produced and mentored by local blues elder statesman Jeff Lang, who also plays in the band with drummer Ashley Davies and sometime Jet keyboard player Steve Hesketh. Lane wrote these songs over four years and recorded the album in five days in a Fitzroy warehouse, yet despite his tender years he projects a lovely world-weary, old-time wisdom; a song such as "War Rages On" seems to draw on experiences gained from a troubled life well lived - the song writing here aspires to the anecdotal, literate insights of a Bruce Springsteen or a Don Walker.

Patrick Donovan,The Age EG 2009

One of the most assured debut albums by a Melbourne singer-songwriter in recent memory, Jordie Lane's songwriting and voice are underpinned by a maturity that bellies his age. Lane, 25, promised much on last year's collaboration with Canadian songwriter Tracy McNeil under the moniker Fireside Bellows but here he delivers on all 13 songs. Co-produced by Jeff Lang and Tim Hall, a Vic Rocks recording grant enabled him to hire stellar local musicians to embellish the album with horns, Hammond organ and banjo. Lane is an old-fashioned storyteller. His raw and intimate yarns range from a cautionary tale in The Publicans Daughter to a stunning, melancholy travelogue in Vietman in Walking That Way, which like many songs here, was inspired by his dreams. The stories have local flavour, featuring Clancy of the Overflow and a Northcote busket. His commanding voice recalls Loudon and Rufus Wainwright and Jeff Tweedy but it is his own and he always controls it. Exciting times from a vanguard of Melbourne singer songwriters that includes Downhills Home, Van Walker, Matt Joe Gow and Brendan Welch.

4 1/2 stars

Readings Monthly, June 2009, by Dave Clarke

Not many artists can release two excellent albums in under a year. Even less can call them both debuts. Confused? Well Jordie Lane happens to be one half of The Fireside Bellows, who released their excellent album No Time To Die late last year. Now, barely eight months later comes his even better solo debut, Sleeping Patterns.
Aided by some of Melbourne’s best musicians and co-produced by Jeff Lang and Tim Hall, he has mixed folk and country and delivered a fine acoustic album. His love of Dylan, Van Zandt and Hank Williams are fairly obvious, but he is certainly not a pale imitator. Once again, the little indie label Vitamin has released one hell of an Australian independent album.

Danielle O'Donohue, Drum Sydney
There are plenty of characters populating Melbourne troubadour Jordie Lane’s debut album, Sleeping Patterns; the great-great-granddaughter of Clancy of the Overflow, tin whistle player John W Thistle, a publican’s daughter that brings visiting musicians to wrack and ruin. Whether their origins are in fact or fiction, each of Lane’s characters comes to live in his deftly woven tales.
Though his early songwriting showed plenty of promise, this debut is a tremendous leap forward. The music is a mixture that blends elements of roots, country, folk and dusty rock so at times Lane could be compared to Ryan Adams or Wilco and at others James Taylor.
The album was recorded in just five days with Jeff Lang and Tim Hall on production duties and you can hear the organic creation of these songs in the earthy and warm tones being wrung out of instruments played by local Melbourne identities like Steve Heskith, Ashley Davies, Liz Stringer and Laura Jean.
Lane’s songs aren’t just stories about the unexpected people you come across in life. There’s also the heartbreakingly beautiful The Day I Leave This Town, where Lane gets introspective and ponders his many possible futures and the things he may have to face in his life and There Once Was Life To Come with its ever swelling horn part.
Like Ryan Adams’ Heartbreaker, Lane on Sleeping Patterns manages to convey a world of emotion in these songs and not just because of his storytelling skills. His unassuming but resonant voice is the other reason this album will connect with anyone willing to give it a spin.

Emily Heylen, dB Magazine #472

Dear Arts Victoria (and more specifically, the person who decided to fund this recording): well done. The best thing about this album is Jordie Lane's voice; a strong and beautiful voice, capable of gravelly rawness, heart-tugging howls and a melancholic sweetness. It's in keeping with the songs themselves, which are classic country/ blues/ folk compositions: simple and flowing so as to let that voice shine through.

Still, there's variety enough; some tunes are 100% blues, others have a slow and grinding groove and still others are so relaxed and gently-formed that they flow like a warm ladle full of winter soup. The lyrics too are varied; there's a tender balance on "Sleeping Patterns" of abstract imagery and literal storytelling. Lane is poignant in War Rages On, Dylan-esque on Dig Straight Through, impressionistic on Clearer You'll See and a Fauve on Love Has Locked The Door. Some songs have distinctly local themes: at his best, Lane captures what it is to be a 24 year old Melbournite, but there's no particularly Australian flavour to the music itself.

What do we have so far? Well-written songs and a rich voice. Holding it all together are some respected local artists - Jeff Lang (guitar) and Ashley Davies (drums), for example : providing tight yet spacious instrumental backing. The occasional brass is particularly understated and lovely, forming a current on which Lane can float with confidence, and the combination of Hammond organ and banjo proves surprisingly winning.

"Sleeping Patterns" is not the most complex recording you'll hear this year, but because each element has an individual elegance to it, yet fits the whole so well, listening to this album is a genuine pleasure.


BILL HOLDSWORTH, Rave Magazine 2009

Another appealing advocate of Americana Australia-style
It took Melbourne singer-songwriter four years to finally get around to his debut album, but when he did, it came quickly. Produced by notables Tim Hall and Jeff Lang (adding plenty of his distinctive guitar to the mix) and featuring guests like Liz Stringer and Laura Jean, it took only five days to assemble these 13 tracks. Not that it sounds at all rushed, especially when you hear the patient roots balladry of tracks like The Day I Leave This Town and I Could Die Looking At You. That latter song, incidentally, confirms Lane’s connection with this country, drawing on the legacy of Banjo Patterson. We also get an Australian’s perspective on the darker side of a visit to Vietnam in War Rages On, where Lane’s simple but effective guitar picking gets a lift from Salvation Army-like horns. Yet, despite the sense of place in the narratives of these songs, Lane’s inspirations come from further afield – specifically, American folk, country and blues, clearly evident in rollicking tracks like Dig Straight Through and the Dylanesque romp of John W Thistle. Served well by a voice that sits between wistful and weary, between emotive and earnest, Jordie Lane is about to wake people up with this set.

Fiona Laughton, Your Gigs - Jen Cloher & Jordie Lane 14 May 2010

Strolling down Sydney's Wentworth Avenue, you could be forgiven for walking straight past the Macquarie Hotel as the cover band squeezes out yet another 'Superstition' cover. But tucked away upstairs, and seemingly years away from the humdrum below, is a inviting little venue called Raval, whose red velvet curtains and antique couches entice you in to kick back with a drink and be cosy.

Tonight is the first show of two for Melbourne-based musicians Jen Cloher and Jordie Lane, who have teamed up for a national tour. Cloher is first on stage and opens with 'Rain'; it immediately strikes me that even without full band she is completely at ease with her performance and is as confident in her ability both as guitarist and as lyricist.

Unapologetically relaxed and equipped with both hilarious and heartfelt anecdotes when introducing songs, Cloher draws you deep in to her world whose soundtrack sits somewhere between alt-country, roots and folk. Drawing inspiration from the underworld ('Ode To Warren Lan Franchi'), a stripper named Tuesday ('Red Room') and her mother's illness ('Mother's Desk'), Cloher is a natural storyteller and master of the phrase. The cover of the Dave Rawling's song 'Ruby' is the real cherry.

When its babyfaced and 24-years-young Jordie Lane's turn to take the Raval stage, you cannot help but be impressed with the vintage quality of his voice. Lane fingerpicks his guitar and litters his lyrics with exotic locations, turning the most mundane tales of illness whilst travelling ('Foreign Bed') and a drunken wedding escapades ('Annabelle Marie') into Dylan-esque delights. Accompanied with a banjo, mandolin and some dubious amplifer noise, Lane's shimmering star is the 'Satisfied-Mind'-esque 'Clearer You'll See', a song that threatens to break us all with each delicate wobble of tremelo.

To close proceedings, Lane is joined onstage by Cloher for the Traveling Wilburys classic 'Handle With Care' - which truly is a gutsy cover when you consider the quality of the original. A cheesy cover of MGMT's 'Electric Feel' tilts dangerously into karaoke territory, but it's the closing number, the Gram Parsons version of 'Love Hurts', that showcases the talent of both of these fine musicians.

Australian Stage - Jen Cloher & Jordie Lane by Lloyd Bradford (Brad) Syke

The Mac(quarie) Hotel, on Wentworth Avenue, happily situated between Sydney central, Hyde Park and the diverse pleasures of Oxford Street, has reinvented itself as a multifaceted venue, focussed around a boutique brewery, food, music, decent accommodation, and more. One of these facets is Raval, a classy lounge almost worthy of high tea, or the Raj. Cosy, relaxed and comfortable, just as the former PM would've wanted it, Raval plays regular host to equally classy, yet edgy live performance. There's really no other venue quite like it and it's a worthy destination in itself. It has a kind of colonial charm and an 'urbane maison' loungeroom ambience. A couple of your very favourite friends and one or two bottles of pinot grigio will almost certainly help you surrender yourself to the performance to follow. Well, it worked for me.

The occasion of my first-ever, long overdue visit was in honour of a redoubtable double-bill: Jen Cloher & Jordie Lane, both of whom hail from Melbourne and must surely stand as two of Australia's most cogent & compelling singer-songwriters.

Their tour blurb touts the lineup thus: 'like fire and ice; moonlight and moonshine; Bonnie and Clyde'. Aha. Sounds good. But which is which? I certainly identify, however, with the pair as 'hot-blooded'. The restraint of Cloher's husky, breathy, beguiling vocal delivery belies her extraordinary capacity to soar and roar like a winter wind, while Lane's heart-on-his-sleeve style isn't a million kilometres from, say, Ron Sexsmith's.

This tour, which also takes in Brisvegas, Adelaide and their hometown, is a boon for those who are fatally-attracted to real, acoustic country, roots, blues, folk and full-blown, heartrending ballads, tales of love, and loss - you need to make a beeline for the cold canyons that are city streets in autumn, to warm your cockles around the warmth these two radiate when you rub up against their considerable songs.

If early reaction is anything to go by, I'm not the only one feasting his or her ears on songs from Cloher's evocatively and intriguingly-titled second album, Hidden Hands, which follows three years after her ARIA-nominated debut, Dead Wood Falls.

Cloher is commonplace on the festival circuit (Woodford, Peats Ridge, Homebake, Queenscliff, East Coast Blues & Roots, Port Fairy, The Falls; you name it) and is already well-known and highly-regarded, if not downright revered, for her tell-it-like-it-is, lyrical robustness, and her new material consolidates that reputation. She's brave in other respects, too: far from formulaic, her latest collection could hardly be more diverse, and there's just a tinge of pop sensibility to ensure memorability: there are hooks to go with her lures. The robustness with words is sublimely counterpointed, at times, by that voice, which could never be called fragile, yet is somehow so imbued with vulnerability. She plucks one's heartstrings firmly and tiptoes across one's soul.

Her cred and renown hasn't been harmed any, neither, by high-profile national supports of late, not least for Canadian phenomenon, Neko Case.

Jordie Lane is one step behind Cloher, inasmuch as having just released his first album (well, going on a year ago, truth be told), Sleeping Patterns, on which altar, as with Cloher's, many affirming adjectives have been sacrificed by otherwise characteristically stingy critics. Indeed, both these precious, precocious songbirds have already been elvated to nationally-treasured status by those who ought to know and I can raise no objection; rather, despite my penchant for prickly dissent, I'd be the first to chime with any such chorus.

By all accounts, Lane's blown away audiences at serial album launches (seems they just keep rolling out, these days) and the reasons for such were transparently obvious at Raval. He's also racked-up the requisite 'seen with' brownie-points, with the likes of Cat Power.

These darlings of the music literati are also mine, bolstered in no small measure by their respective live presences. While they currently lack the massive marketing clout necessary to elevate them to immortal, mythical, or legendary status, they surely don't lack the substance which makes it so much easier to sell.

Lane has been compared with everyone from Bob Dylan to Gram Parsons. Sometimes I think a critic is prone to write the first thing that comes into his or her head. The Dylan comparison is valid in terms of the compelling quality of his songs, but it was likely made because he blows a little harmonica, while playing his guitar. He has the weight, the gravitas, of Gram, but the most striking resemblance for mine is vocally, to Rufus Wainwright. (Ironically, I've heard him compared with Loudon, but I can't hear that.) Lane's voice, like RW's, is one which can suddenly and effortlessly take flight, like some majestic, mythical bird, taking you along for the emotional ride.

But Cloher took the stage first, alone, one slight, raven-haired, all-black-clad woman and her guitar. Caught almost by surprise, like the proverbial bunny in the spotlight, as the velvet curtain slinked back, her soothing, laidback, at-ease patter segued into Rain, arguably the greatest song from her catalogue and one of the most affecting of all meditations on the trauma of the breakup, leaving bitterness behind, in deference to aching, poetic tenderness. Cloher's pining vocal veritably throbs with the loneliness and emptiness of fresh separation. She becomes a vessel for the tears we've all shed over lovers.

I watched her mouth, the words through the glass,
As the rain, it flooded the underpass,
And the light from the restaurant hit her face in a way
That made me wish that she would stay.
And her makeup ran in a little black river,
Over pores, and years, and loves withered.
I’m a simple man, but I know this much,
Joy in a woman is as good as her touch.

From plumbing these depths and without missing a beat Cloher unselfconsciously launched into a brief history of Sallie-Anne Huckstepp, hapless concubine of drug overlord and infamous protege of Neddy Smith, Warren Lanfranchi, in fearlessly introducing her ode to same. Her punchy anecdote introduced her very own colourful character: a leather-skinned 'orange roughy' from Surfers Palestine, prematurely-stooped by her beastly burden of gold chains. Yet beneath the cynicism and ridicule players in this real-life drama seem to universally engender, Cloher again seeks and finds the innocent, tender heart of the story, in the genuine, if misplaced and deluded 'Stand By Your Man' love the beautiful Huckstepp found with hardman Lanfranchi. As always, Cloher delivers with the utmost sincerity and conviction. And she's nothing if not well-researched.

Mother's Desk is the opening cut of Cloher's new album, retelling a 'weird' time in her life, but one 'I'm grateful for', when her academic mother's mind was ravaged by Alzheimer's. Affecting doesn't even cover it.

It's desperately difficult to pin her down, or talk about a particular song, lest you surmise it typical. If her work can be typified, words like atmospheric, accessible (but never at the expense of a certain mystique), redolent and pregnant with imagery fill my mind.

Cloher's been around long enough to have honed her writing and performance to a fine art; perhaps her NIDA training comes to the fore in setting the mood; (it sure as hell wasn't the, ah, quirky, if not odd, Studio 54 lighting). In listening to her, you shall be released.

And let's not forget her 'road-hubby', Troy Robinson, who harmonises so well that, if it weren't for the physical disparities, one could be seduced into thinking they were identical twins, or something. He also plays a mean guitar, and banjo.

If Cloher is pixie-like, Lane is a lovable, if much more than garden-variety gnome; diminutive and bearded, like a babyfaced, mini-me, more coherent, less angst-riddled Ginsberg. Celebrated Westy, Matt Green, joined him on mandolin, harmonies and guitar, with the last sounding eerily and astonishingly like a pedal-steel.

Just as Rain could easily serve as Cloher's piece de resistance, Lane's Sweet Somebody is as consummate as, say Dylan's Lay, Lady, Lay. it has all the makings, hallmarks and mettle of a standard. In but three lines he encapsulates the danger and terror of love, for the sensitive soul. You can almost feel yourself freefalling.

I got a heart that breaks all the time
I got a head that leads me like it's blind
Now I got a sweet somebody on my mind.

Both Cloher and Lane have truth coursing through their musical veins: you can feel it in the form of delicious chills. But when they get through with their stories of longing and broken hearts, they reach out to the audience with their charm, wit and intelligence, with beguiling snippets and delicate slices of their observant lives. A triple treat came in the form of a third set, which brought 'the cougar and her cub', with their respective musical soulmates, all onstage together, to perform surprising covers, like Love Hurts, made most famous by Nazareth's searing, tortured rendition, in 1975, but originally recorded by The Everly Brothers, in 1960, and written by Felice & Boudleaux Bryant, who found their feet in country, but cut a swathe in pop, writing Everly chartbusters like Bye-Bye, Love & All I Have To Do Is Dream. I bet you didn't know that.

OK, they might be a little young to cut the mustard as national treasures, but Cloher & Lane are well on their way. Let's hope they surpass even that status, on the world stage.

Triple J - Like A Version May 2010
Jen Cloher and Jordie Lane team up for Like A Version, performing Jen Cloher's
'Mother's Desk' and MGMT's 'Electric Feel'. Watch the recording now...


Rod Yates, Rolling Stone Magazine 2009

Having spent the past four years building a reputation as an emerging folk talent, Jordie Lane's debut album may well come to be regarded as one of the most assured ever by a local artist. Displaying the soulful tenderness of Ron Sexsmith and Ray LaMontagne, and imbuing it with a fine appreciation of American country and folk, opener "The Publican's Daughter" demonstrates Lane's talent for storytelling. It is, however, the album's more tender moments that leave the hairs on your neck standing to attention. "I Could Die Looking At You" is one such number - quintessentially Australian, courtesy of its Banjo Patterson references, but Lane's gentle finger picking and intimate vocals lend it a sombre grace that is universal. "Fell Into Me", meanwhile, proves he's equally adept at conjuring a soulful, full-bodied band work-out that rocks. Produced by Jeff Lang and Tim hall, Sleeping Patterns is a rare treat.

4 stars

Sam Fell, Tsunami Mag 2009

Let’s cut to the chase right here – the debut LP from Melbourne based songster, Jordie Lane, is an absolute cracker, and in fact, I’ll go out on a limb here and say that this will come in as Record of the Year. Perhaps that’s a phrase bandied around a little too often by music writers at inappropriate times of the year (like, not at the end), but Sleeping Patterns is so damn good and we’ve been waiting so damn long for it, well, words basically fail me. It’s honestly that good. Is this an unstructured rant? Yes, yes it is – but with good reason. Lane has been building his following slowly but surely over the past five years or so and over the course of this time which has yielded two EPs and a record from side-project Fireside Bellows (also fantastic), Lane has matured into one of this country’s best songwriters. Coupled with his guitar prowess and help from a host of guests (Jeff Lang, Liz Stringer and Steve Hesketh amongst them), this is a record that slides elegantly from folky ballads to rollicking blues numbers to country twang. The word of the day is Fuckin’ Brilliant, and it’s directed all at Jordie Lane.

9.5 out of 10

Martin Jones, Rhythms Magazine 2009

Jordie Lane confirms his reputation as one of this country's brightest new roots music stars with a long overdue debut album.

Touring Page