Leap In The Dark

In the late 1960's a new type of band appeared on the British pop music scene that combined elements of traditional British Isle folk music with modern instruments and psychedelic rock. Groups like Fairport Convention, Renaissance, and individuals like Bert Jansch, were famous for their wonderful instrumental work and breath taking vocal harmonies. While incarnations of each of the two bands are still active today and keeping that sound alive, the current crop of musicians interested in the same field are prone to tinkering with the old formula.

Judging by their debut album, Carbeth released on Honest Jon's Records, the four person band Trembling Bells have a similar affection for the music as their predecessors. Yet instead of being merely content to emulate them, they've also added some distinctly unique flavouring of their own into the mix. For while some elements of their sound; distinctive vocals, acoustic instruments, and a passion for early music stylings, are common to both generations of folk groups, Trembling Bells has spread their net somewhat further afield than Great Britain.

Your first indication that this isn't going to be quite like anything else you've heard comes right from the opening track on the disc, "I Listed All Of The Velvet Lessons". For although there's the expected soaring soprano female lead vocal singing what sounds like a tune written when central heating meant a fire pit in the middle of the room, the horn that sounds like it sprang from a parade through the streets of New Orleans is something new. On top of that, throughout the disc there are moments of discordance verging on cacophony which prevents the music from becoming overly precious and introduces an element of darkness absent from those earlier bands.

The core of Trembling Bells are percussionist/drummer Alex Neilson, the above mentioned female soprano, Lavinia Blackwall, also handles the keyboard chores, Ben Reynolds plays guitar, harmonica, and chips in on vocals, and Simon Shaw is on bass. The sound on Carbeth is rounded out with the inclusion of trombonist George Murray and viola player Aby Vuillamy. While the former helps push the band into uncharted territory for a traditional folk group, the latter keeps them firmly rooted in the early music sound expected of them. If you think of them as the two extremes of the band's sound, you begin to get an idea of just how different they're from what's come before.

For although the titles of their songs sound appropriately medieval; "I Took To You (Like Christ To Wood)", "Willows Of Carbeth", and "Garlands Of Stars", the majority of them aren't about to inspire anybody to start Morris dancing on the village green. In fact most of them have a definite split personality when it comes to the music. This is especially noticeable on those songs where Blackwall takes the lead vocals as her beautiful soprano is a sharp contrast to the music playing behind her. Whether it's the keyboards swirling dervish like or the trombone playing blues tinged jazz, her voice is made to stand out so much it's purity plays against itself to the point where it almost jars against the ear. Like a sharpened knife her voice cuts and wounds and is one of the clearest indications that Trembling Bells aren't sentimental in their approach to traditional music.

While some might find this approach disconcerting when they compare it to what they're used to, it seems to me a far more honest approach to the music than the overly romantic, and rather cloying sounds, of others. There was nothing easy about life during Medieval times when for the majority it was a struggle merely to survive. If you didn't die of disease or starvation, the back breaking work of merely staying alive would ensure you didn't live past forty. Trembling Bells may not sing songs about pestilence and famine, but the qualities they've imbued their music with dispels any notions of this era being some sort of rustic paradise.

Lest I've given you the impression that Trembling Bells are simply a discordant bunch of noisemakers, let me reassure you that nothing could be further from the truth. Their songs are all marvellously crafted and superbly played pieces of music performed by extremely talented individuals. It takes an incredible amount of talent and skill to push music to the very edge of dissonance without ever falling over into discordance and they show a fine ear and a deft touch by never allowing that to happen. Like the best avant-garde jazz they might give the impression of chaos, but the reality is they always know exactly what they're doing.

Trembling Bells may have deconstructed the traditional folk music genre, but that doesn't mean they are without affection for it. In fact, I think their efforts to breath new life into this style of music, their desire to give it a more authentic feel, shows the depth of their appreciation. Certainly the music on Carbeth is not easy to listen to, and requires a certain amount of effort on the part of the listener, but the result is something far more rewarding than anything previously attempted in this field. If you come to this album simply hoping to hear a rehashing of what's been done before you will be disappointed. However if you're willing to listen carefully and allow the music to work its magic on you - you'll be amazed by what they have to offer.

Posted by Richard Marcus at 11:38 AM | Permalink

It's been difficult for me to take the ukulele seriously as an instrument ever since I saw Tiny Tim squeak his way through "Tip Toe Through The Tulips" in his annoying falsetto. To be perfectly honest up until a few years ago I did my best to avoid anything remotely connected to the instrument because of the association. I first started to overcome my prejudice while listening to the multi-instrumentalist virtuoso Bob Brozman and learnt the instrument was capable of doing much more than I had originally thought.

However, it's only now that I've listened to Jake Shimabukuro's forth coming release, Jake Shimabukuro Live (April 14th/09 on Hitchhike Records), that I've truly come to appreciate the ukulele. After listening to Jake play you can't believe that he's playing something with only four strings. There's plenty of guitar players out there who would be hard pressed to do what's he's capable of doing with four strings with their six strings.

The nearly twenty tracks on Live range from Shimabukuro's interpretation of classical pieces, to his renditions of such pop classics like "Thriller" and George Harrison's "While My Guitar Gently Weeps. What's truly amazing about the show he puts on is he holds your attention as a completely solo act; there's no band, nor orchestra, and nothing on tape backing him up. It's just Jake and his ukulele.

The ukulele is a four string, two octave instrument, making you think that it must be extremely limited in the the sounds that produces. Not if you're a performer like Shimabukuro as he's able to squeeze sounds out of his instrument that will have you swearing he's playing a regular guitar. There's none of the "plink-plink" sound one would normally expect from a high pitched instrument like it, nor does he use it simply to keep rhythm by strumming a few chords. Instead he's turned it into a lead instrument that rivals the mandolin for its intricacy, and the guitar for its diversity of sound.

Although the first thing you're bound to notice when listening to Jake Shimabukuro is the speed at which he plays, what impressed me the most was that unlike other technically proficient players he also plays with a lot of emotion. Even though it seems like his fingers are flying almost all the time, either up and down the fret board or picking, he doesn't neglect the emotional content of his material either. Certainly his cover of something like "Thriller" is primarily an example of technical prowess. However his performance of "Bach Two Part Invention In D-Minor" makes you forget what instrument he is playing as the beauty of the music is the focus, not his talent or his technique.

Listen carefully to the song that made him famous, his cover of George Harrison's "While My Guitar Gently Weeps", and you'll soon find that you're again forgetting about the instrument he's playing and becoming wrapped up in the music instead. While it's a little strange at first to hear the song being played as an instrumental, eventually you begin to hear the lyrics being "sung" in his playing. As the notes are picked to form the tune that is so very familiar, the melody comes to life with such passion and love that you soon forget its not being sung. I've heard many attempts to play instrumental version of pop songs, especially ones by the Beatles, but this is the first time I've heard one that manages to capture the spirit of the original song.

It's not just classical music and pop songs that he brings his remarkable talents to bear on either, for one of the earlier tracks on the disc is a cover of the Chick Corea tune "Spain". Now I was never much of a fan of Chick Corea's music when played by him, as they ran far more in the direction of pop music than jazz for my taste. Hearing Shimabukuro playing the piece gave it a dimension that it lacked before and I found myself appreciating the song more than I ever did when it was performed by the composer.

Part of that might have been the novelty of hearing the song being played on ukulele, but if that were all there was to it, I would have lost interest after only a short while. While it might have been the instrument that captured my attention in the first place, it was Shimabukuro's ability to breath life into the music that held it for the entire length of the piece. There's something about how he plays, perhaps it has to do with a deftness of touch or the precision with which he plays each note, that allows you to hear and feel each note no matter how fast he's playing, which pulls you into the piece and holds you fast until its completed.

Listening to track fourteen, "Sakura Sakura", a traditional Japanese folk song that's normally played on the thirteen string Japanese instrument know as a Koto, you really appreciate that ability. This is one of the slower songs on the disc and somehow he makes each note ring as if far more strings were involved than just the four at his disposal. Each note is allowed to resonate to maximum effect before he strikes the next one, allowing the listener to feel it completely. There's an intensity to the performance that almost makes it unbearable, so in some ways you're relieved when the song ends because each note is so beautiful that you quickly become overwhelmed by them.

To many people the ukulele is a novelty instrument and not to be taken seriously. However, when you hear Jake Shimabukuro play you're quickly disabused of that notion. In his hands it's comparable to any stringed instrument, whether bowed or plucked, and capable of playing any genre of music. Jake Shimabukuro is an amazing musician who is not only technically skilled, but able to plumb the emotional depths of any piece of music he attempts. This is a magnificent recording by an amazing performer that shouldn't be missed by anybody who genuinely appreciates great music.

Posted by Richard Marcus at 08:03 PM | Permalink

I have to admit the first time I head Leonard Cohen I didn't get it. Of course I was all of thirteen years old at the time and was much more into electric guitars and noise than the quiet introspection Leonard had to offer. Thankfully I matured and learned there was more to life than I had previously thought and his music and poetry started to make much sense to me. Since then I have dipped into his work periodically, and like a warm bath that eases aching muscles its always been a much needed balm to my soul.

So when I heard that Sony Music was releasing a DVD of Cohen's most recent tour I was thrilled, for even though I'll be seeing him in concert next month (May 2009), having a permanent record of the event that I can access whenever I need rejuvenation was just too good an opportunity to pass up. If Leonard Cohen Live In London managed to capture a small percentage of what the man has to offer as a poet and a performer I would have been content. As it is, I don't think I've ever seen a concert movie capture the essence of a performer and their material as completely as this one did with Leonard Cohen.

From the moment Cohen bounded on stage (it's hard to believe he's seventy-five years old) to the closing notes of the finale twenty-five songs later, I've never felt closer to a performer while watching him or her on film as I did during this DVD. With the improvements in technology it's nothing new for cameras to be up on stage with the performers capturing the most intimate details of their performance as was the case with this recording. However, whereas in the past it's always felt as if there was a barrier between me and the performers no matter how close the cameras were able to shoot, this time it felt like Cohen and his band members would turn and address you personally at any moment.

Of course a great deal of that sensation was created by Cohen himself. Not once did I have the feeling that he was performing with a capital "P", or was anybody but who he is all the time. How often have you seen someone screw up their face or contort their body while performing as an indication that they are in the throws of some emotional turmoil? There's no such histrionics in Cohen's performance. Instead, we are treated to the sight of someone allowing their material to speak for itself. If a song's tempo increased, or his voice rose in volume, it always felt as though there was no other way for it to be presented. It was if he and his band were merely the conduit which allowed the needs of the material to be met, and they were secondary to the performance.

The concert has something for every generation of Cohen fans as it includes songs dating back as far as "Suzanne" from 1967's Songs Of Leonard Cohen through to "In My Secret Life" from 2001's Ten New Songs and stops in every decade in between. While of course there will be some disappointment at favourite songs being left out of the set list ("Famous Blue Raincoat" and "Joan of Arc" are two I missed most), its a remarkably satisfying retrospective of Cohen's career. Even better was the fact that Cohen and his band found ways to bring new life to the old material, like "So Long Marianne" and "Sisters Of Mercy", but without sacrificing anything of what made them special to begin with. As a result this isn't an attempt by an old performer to capture some of his former glory by cashing in on people's nostalgia for his former hits. Instead its like an art exhibit that gives viewers the opportunity to appreciate the body of work that an artist produced during his lifetime. The only difference being this artist is still alive and able to go back and touch up any of his masterpieces that otherwise might not have stood the test of time.

Cohen's work has always seemed more sophisticated than your average folk song and called out for more than just simple guitar accompaniment. On the other hand there has to be a delicate balance struck in order to ensure the music never overwhelms either the lyrics or Cohen's voice. Under the direction of musical director and basest Roscoe Beck the band featuring; Rafael Bernardo Gayol (drums & percussion), Neil Larsen (keyboards), Javier Mas (banduria, laud, archilaud, & twelve string guitar), Bob Metzger (lead guitar & pedal steel), Dino Soldo (wind instruments, harmonica, & keyboard), and background vocalists Sharon Robinson, Charley Webb, and Hattie Webb, couldn't have done a better job. Not only were each of them capable of individual virtuosity when called upon (Javier Mas' playing will make you weep), even when they soloed it never felt like they were putting themselves ahead of the material.

As for the man himself, he still has more personality and charisma in his little finger than any of the twenty-something pop stars on the charts could ever dream of. Not only did he bound on stage at the opening, but he came running back on for his second encore nearly three hours later. Cohen simply standing centre stage holding his microphone and singing exudes more energy than most others at their most frenetic, while his elegance and style redefine the word dapper.

Cohen's voice, that some call limited, is revealed as the perfect instrument for his material. Eloquent, without being grandiose or flashy, each word and phrase is carefully enunciated so the listener doesn't miss anything. Anyone who might have thought of Cohen's voice as monotone will be quickly disabused of that notion after seeing this performance as he shows an amazing ability to communicate emotions with only the slightest vocal inflection. Perhaps that's where any misconceptions about his voice arose in the past, as he doesn't need to resort to the cheap melodrama that others do in order to express himself.

Needless to say the sound and visuals on the disc are superlative with the camera work in specific being remarkable for the way it's able to create a sense of intimacy in spite of the size of the space where the performance was filmed and the number of people on stage. While there aren't any special features included with disc, they have included the lyrics to every song sung during the show.

Leonard Cohen Live In London is a brilliant concert film featuring one of the most erudite and intelligent performers to ever grace a pop music stage. This is Leonard Cohen at his best, and Leonard Cohen at his best is miles beyond anything that anyone else can even dream of accomplishing.

Posted by Richard Marcus at 01:52 PM | Permalink

In an interview I conducted with him last September I referred to Willie Nile as The Troubadour Of New York City. While it may seem like an archaic word to use for describing a modern day musician as it evokes images of someone in a floppy hat playing a lute and singing verses recounting histories or epic romances. However, there was more to those song smiths of old than that, as they also roamed the country keeping track of events in the realm, which they would recount to their listeners along with their more traditional pieces. In either case the songs helped people to understand the world around them

I don't know whether Willie Nile owns a floppy hat, but on his forthcoming release, House Of A Thousand Guitars (April 14th/09, on his own River House Records label), Willie Nile proves once again just how adept he is at both elements of the troubadour's art. For whether he's singing about something topical as in "Now That The War Is Over", or simply about living in the world as with "Little Light", Nile's is unerring in his ability in bringing his subject matter to life.

There's something about the combination of his music and the sound of Nile's voice that assures the listener of both his honesty and the depth of his passion for whatever it is he is singing about. Even a song that in another's hands, like the title track "House Of A Thousand Guitars" in which he expresses his respect and admiration for various folk in the music industry both dead and alive, would sound cheaply sentimental at best and cliched at worse, his sincerity is obvious because of the genuineness of his enthusiasm for what he is singing about. Unlike other songs of this type which glorify the dead, this song is a celebration of the music and the pleasure it has brought all of us over the years.

The twelve songs on the disc are divided equally between two sets of musicians, with the harder edged cuts being played by the band he refers to as the Worry Dolls; Andy York (guitar), Brad Albetta (bass), and Rich Pagano (drums), while long time collaborator Frankie Lee (drums), Stuart Smith (guitar), and Stewart Lerman (bass) backed him on the six, more ballad like, tunes. While the band might change dependant on whether Nile is intent on rocking the house or moving a little slower, he doesn't change his straight from the heart approach to the material.

Wearing your heart on your sleeve isn't common practice among popular music singers in this day and age, if it ever has been, but Willie Nile is one of the few who do. Which is why it doesn't matter whether he's leading the Worry Dolls in an anthem like "Give Me Tomorrow" or singing a ballad along the lines of "Love Is A Train", you feel as though there's nothing more important in the world at that moment than what Nile is telling you in his song. This of course compels you to listen to the lyrics of each of his songs, which is when you realize that even if they're not the most important thing in the world they are some of the most meaningful lyrics that you've ever heard.

What impresses me the most about Willie Nile's lyrics on House Of A Thousand Guitars is how he somehow manages to be both poetic and straightforward at the same time. There's nothing convoluted about Nile's songs. Unlike some other writers who attempt to show off their intellectuality by refusing ever to say what they mean directly, and whose material ends up leaving you cold, these songs beat an emotional path directly from Willie's heart to yours. It's not that his material isn't intelligent, for it is, it's just that he's secure enough in his talent that he has no need to prove to anybody his intellectual credibility.

Something that I couldn't help noticing the first time I listened to Nile's music, after about a decade of not hearing anything from him - last summer's DVD release Live From The Streets Of New York - was how well he combined the sensibilities of Irish folk music and rock and roll. Unlike groups like The Pogues who retain the old folk structure and instruments while "punking" up the sound, Nile welds elements of the two styles together to create a sound that's both vital and heartfelt. For while his rock and roll sounds along the lines of the Ramones meet Sun Records, his lyrical style and passion owe more to The Chieftains and County Warwick than Elvis or CBGBs.

Of course on the slower, more ballad oriented songs, the connection to Irish music is even more noticeable, after all Nile is a good Irish boy from Buffalo. However, instead of making an obvious attempt at writing "Irish" tunes, Nile has simply allowed his own heritage to flavour what he writes. The result is pretty much the same as what happens with the rock and roll songs, a wonderful marriage of styles that doesn't have an artificial or cheaply sentimental bone in its body. Unlike the musical equivalent of green plastic hats for St. Patrick's day that you hear in so called Irish pubs, Nile's music is an organic blending of the old and the new that yields astonishing results.

Whether it's a social-political rocker like "Doomsday Dance" with its satirical lyrics celebrating humankind's seemingly insatiable desire for self-destruction ("There'll be a body count/We're goinna watch it rise/the folks at CNN/They won't believe their eyes/We'll do the dead man's twist/This is our last chance/Down at the Doomsday Dance"), or the unsentimental beauty and heartbreak of his memorial to his brother in "Touch Me", Nile continues to create music like few others.

Honesty, integrity, and a sense of the absurd combined with a razor sharp wit unfortunately aren't top forty material so it's unlikely that Willie Nile will ever gain the acclaim or fame that his abilities justify. Thankfully that doesn't seem to be stopping him from continuing to give us his interpretations of what's going on in the world. Like the troubadours of old Willie Nile has both his eyes and heart open to the world, and the ability to turn that into music, and we're better for it.

Posted by Richard Marcus at 04:34 AM | Permalink

I suppose that most people in North America if they think of Russian music at all will either think of the Red Army Chorus extolling the virtues of the "Workers Paradise" by singing "The International", or groups of Cossack dancers doing improbable steps to the sound of balalaikas. Well the "Worker's Paradise" hasn't existed, if it ever really did, since the late 1980's, and Cossacks haven't had much to dance about in years, so you need to throw all those old expectations away and be prepared for anything when you listen to what contemporary Russian musicians are creating.

Germany and Russia haven't what you call a history of amicable relationships down through the years, and the twentieth century was a particularly bad time as each took turns in occupying the other for extended periods. However, this hasn't stopped Russian musicians being welcomed when they've gone searching for greener pastures in the West as they look to make a living from their craft. Which explains how the Russian group Ersatzmusika comes to be based out of Berlin Germany and is about to release their second CD, Songs Unrecatable, on the German label Asphalt-Tango. (While April 10th/2009 is the release date for the physical disc, you can download, and preview, the CD at the Asphalt-Tango site above as well as a songbook illustrated by the band's lead singer, Irina Doubrovskaja.)

If you download the songbook one of the first things you'll notice is the lyrics are in English, and that's not because they've been translated, it's because almost all the songs on Songs Unrecantable are sung in that language. Although to be honest lead singer Doubrovskaja's accent is so thick that if you're only listening casually chances are you're probably going to assume she's singing in Russian. To be fair it's not just her accent, the music the band plays is so different from what most of us are used to hearing when it comes to Eastern European folk, that the combination of the two makes for a sound so alien to our ears you can be easily forgiven for not noticing she is singing in English. It's a little different when native English speaker Thomas Cooper (he also translated all the songs into English) sings on tracks eleven and thirteen, but by then the disc is almost over and the atmosphere been long set.

Before anyone starts jumping to any conclusions about brooding Russians or anything equally stupid, by mood I'm referring to the fact that Doubrovskaja sounds likes a Russian accented Marlene Dietrich. Yet while both she and Dietrich evoke smoke filled cabarets with dim lights, musically, lyrically the two women are miles apart. For while the former's stock in trade was sultry love songs, the latter's lyrics drip irony onto music that tastes of a little bit of everything from Balkan beat box to traditional folk sounds. There's actually something eerily familiar about Ersatzmusika's overall sound that escaped me for the longest time, until it struck me how much they reminded me of The Doors in their slower and more pensive moments.

While they might share certain characteristics with other performers and have drawn upon various styles, it's doubtful you've ever heard anything quite like Ersatzmuika before. While the instruments in play sound like the normal array for an Eastern European folk ensemble/pop group: guitar (Leonid Soybelman, Sergej Voronzov, Fuslan Kalugin, and Phil Freeborn); bass (Konstantin Orlov, and the late Igor Vdovchenko on two tracks); drums and percussion (Michail Zukov and Roman Buschuev); keyboard, piano, and accordian (Irina Doubrovskaja); cello (Sergej Chanukaev); synthesizer (Werner Zein); and harmonica (Roman Buschuev), the results are anything but standard.

Where one has come to expect a lively sound inspired by polka's, the heady influence of gypsy violins, or other rural traditions, you find moody, atmospheric sounds which are a far more accurate reflection of life today. The lyrics in turn are a match for this sound as they offer commentary on humanity's checkered history and uncertain future. The opening lines of "Gypsy Air", the first track on the CD, give you a good idea of the band's appraisal of our past: "Woe filled times we must abide/& woe betide him who knows not this...Let us compile a list/Of the wrongs that man commits/Never shying ignominy/Clipped the wings, ducked the tail/Little boy, Nagasaki."

However it's not only the past they are concerned with as they capture the true price of the greed and materialism that plagues today a little later in the same song with the following lines, "That tenderness' needs must contrast/With tender, its negation." I don't think I've heard a condemnation of a system that puts selling above caring phrased so succinctly and directly before. Now, lest you think they're only a one note band, they also show themselves capable of being darkly humorous. "Oh Pterodactyl", track seven, is a darkly delightful examination of our genealogy. "There has of late been much debate/Bout what is round and what is straight/And why no politician/Could have a forebear simian/But oh pterodactyl/To you we owe a/Oh pterodactyl/A debt of honour/Oh pterodactyl/Although that Noah/Oh pterodactyl/Wants to disown ya."

It's hard to describe the experience of listening to Songs Unrecantable by Ersatzmusika simply because there's not much else like them around to offer up as a comparison. Their accents mark them as Eastern European, and there are elements of their music that reflect that heritage, but not in the way we've grown accustomed to hearing them as presented by world music labels. This is an edgier, more contemporary, and urban sound which, while it doesn't discount its heritage, uses it as its springboard to something new instead of just recreating what's been done before. It's only fitting though considering their song's lyrics, which are not only predominately in English to allow for more universal comprehension, are also far more relevant to today's world than what we're used to.

Recently we've seen how young musicians from backgrounds as diverse as Balkan and Roma have begun to make their sound more contemporary while maintaining a connection to their traditional music. Ersatzmuzika is on the leading edge of the movement intent on proving anything old can be new again and in the process are creating some great music.

Posted by Richard Marcus at 02:47 PM | Permalink

The St. Lawrence River runs from the Atlantic Ocean into Lake Ontario and over the years has carried everything from cargo to typhoid in the holds of the ships that have sailed up river to inland destinations. As the great river completes its westward journey to the lake, travellers pass through a stretch known as the 1,000 Islands. While some of these so called islands are no more than lumps of rock with a tree stuck on them, the region between Cornwall and Kingston Ontario on the Canadian side of the river and Oswego to Massena on the American, takes its name from the over thousand islands that dot the river and Lake Ontario.

The area is now a major source of tourist revenue for towns on both sides of the border as they ferry countless tourists each summer on cruises through the numerous channels that the islands have created merely by existing. Dotted throughout the system are occasional wonders like Boldt Castle, the never completed testimony of industrialist George Boldt's love for his wife Louise. When Louise died before it was finished George ordered all work stopped on the project and it lay abandoned for decades until the Thousand Islands Bridge Authority bought the property and turned it into a tourist attraction.

History, romance, and mystery are what attract people to the Thousand Islands by the bus load on a daily basis every summer, and it's those qualities that have been the inspiration for the southern Ontario based band Great Lake Swimmers' new CD on the Nettwerk Music Group label, Lost Channels. However don't expect many literal references to specifics like Boldt Castle or other geographical landmarks from the region as this is a much more impressionistic venture than that. Recorded at various locations throughout the 1,000 Island region, the band has tried to capture the sense of wonder, romance, and mystery that the locale has evoked in people's mind for generations.

Great Lake Swimmers' sound is built around lead vocalist Tony Dekker. There's an almost ethereal quality to his voice that make it ideally suited for these types of atmospheric creations. That's not to say his voice is thin or lacking in any way, rather it has an otherworldly quality making it sound like he's been able to peek behind the curtains where the emotional truths of events are normally hidden. Thankfully that's not just for show, as unlike other bands who strive for the profound and recite the prosaic, Dekker and company's material shows the presence of genuine empathy for the emotional context of a situation or location.

On first listen, Lost Channels, is difficult to get a read on as initially you can't help but be caught up by the flow of their music. Unlike most bands who always seem to be in a hurry to get to the end of their disc, this music seems content to carry you gently to its destination. Yet it's not just a matter of being washed away in a bunch of pretty sounds and bobbing along on the surface as there's a definite undertow pulling you down into each individual song. You may not realize what it is you're hearing on the first listen, but there's something about it that compels you to listen again and again; an insistent voice continually demanding your attention. Only then do you realize the distinct flavour that each song contains within what felt like a singular stream of music.

Like the St. Lawrence River itself which flows ceaselessly from the Atlantic Ocean but still takes on different personalities dependant on where it's passing through, the various points of call that are the songs on Lost Channels have enough individuality to make them stand out from the whole and each other. Although they each share the common element of Dekker's unique voice and share some composition elements, content is their distinguishing feature.

The song that first stuck out for me was the fifth track, "She Comes To Me In Dreams" mainly because it was the first song on the disc that sounded at all typical of the folk rock genre the band is supposed to be part of. Strong guitars are accompanied by equally pulsating drums, while pedal steel guitar and mandolin fill out the sound making it sound like a cross between old Buffalo Springfield and the Flying Burrito Brothers musically. It's on this track that you realize the strength of Dekker's voice, for instead of it being washed out by the music like those who contrive to have a mysterious voice, he comes through loud and clear without losing any of the qualities that make him unique.

It's almost if instead of its etherealness causing it to be drowned out by the music, it gives his voice a buoyancy that allows it to float across its surface. It's the same on each song, no matter whether he's accompanying himself on acoustic guitar and piano as on "River's Edge", or the full band is playing behind him. With the music and the lyrics being closely knit, so that the one is an extension of the other, it means that we are drawn to listen for him by a desire to hear how he expresses what the music implies with his words. "I am in an uproar" he sings in the opening lines of the tumultuous "She Comes To Me In Dreams", and the music is as well; a perfect reflection of the emotions expressed throughout the song.

Lost Channels was inspired by the mystery and beauty of the stretch of the St. Lawrence River known as the 1,000 Islands. While it may not be specifically about any of the islands in particular, it somehow manages to capture some of the depth of emotion that the area inspires in people. Music that attempts to elicit emotional responses from its listeners through impressionistic means runs the real risk of being either manipulative, sentimental, or cliched. Tony Dekker and the rest of Great Lake Swimmers not only avoid those pitfalls, but have broached new ground with their creation. The twelve songs listened to as a unit evoke an image of the river on its endless journey from the Atlantic into the heart of North America, while the individual songs enliven some of the specific emotions she has provoked in people's hearts and minds over the centuries.

There are occasions when being haunted is a good thing, and listening to Lost Channels is an example of how that is possible. It's not often that the spirit of something as vast and unpredictable as the St. Lawrence River is brought to life, but Great Lake Swimmers have managed to do just that with beauty and intelligence.

Posted by Richard Marcus at 06:21 AM | Permalink