Let’s face it: the virtual world (and the amount of information it brings with it) makes us so knowledgeable about what’s going on around us that, while on the one hand this tickles our relentless hunger for knowledge, on the other hand it risks taking away one of the absolute best moments for a music fan: surprise.
Those magical moments that used to materialise when, while you were browsing through the records in a shop at lightning speed, you came across a cover, a title, or a name that would turn on a light bulb and make you take an unknown object home, seem to have disappeared. At other times, the winking gaze of another customer whose eyes seemed to confide “You can’t not have it, trust me!” was enough to convince you.
Once upon a time, getting information and finding out about the music you loved was almost a second job, so difficult was it to find out about it, but today it is practically impossible to approach an artist and his work without already knowing something about it. But sometimes it still happens… as it happened to me with Torn Sail and Alabaster dePlume.
Two records that I found in my huge computer library without remembering why I had put them there and that I ended up listening to without really knowing anything about their authors.
It may seem paradoxical for someone who writes on a blog, but in my opinion, it is nice to claim some of that right to not know that I was talking about before. So, if you love surprises and you don’t know the two records we are going to talk about, you know what I say? “You can’t not have them, trust me!”.
Trust me and … go no further in your reading….
If you haven’t stopped I imagine you’ll want to know more so here I am! In any case, to reflect the spirit of the introduction, I’ll try not to be too explicit, maybe not naming names and just throwing in some breadcrumbs….
Let’s start with Torn Sail and his “This Short Sweet Life”, for which I’ll ask you only seven minutes or so of trust, the time needed to listen to the first track, “Birds”. The first encounter with Huw Costin (the man behind Torn Sail) is a scattered and sparkling 12-string arpeggio on which is grafted an almost psalmodic voice surrounded by echoes and streaks of slide guitar in the background. The sensation is that of being welcomed into a parallel world that invites the listener to a momentary suspension of disbelief, so let’s close your eyes… and let yourselves be carried away. In this atmosphere, a long and enthralling dobro solo gently bursts in, at the apex of which the voice takes the stage again with a choral and anthemic refrain that in turn leaves room for a reprise of the enveloping incipit. At the end you can open your eyes again and decide whether to close them and continue or if this journey is not for you.
Be warned, though: if you stop, you will lose five more pearls. “Ricochets” is a jazzy ballad with sprinkles of organ and embroidery of electric guitar, cloaked in angelic voices and boasting the presence of a guest with a big voice and a grim face (I’ll leave it to you to discover: but … er … trust me: you know him …), with a choral part capable of transporting us directly to California between the ’60s and ’70s.
“Self-medication’ lives up to its name and is really medicine for your soul. It’s a suffering and melancholic ballad with an almost gospel-like refrain (speaking of soul) performed by a falsetto wrapped in ghostly echoes and aiming straight at the heart. The bridge is something majestic, capable of shaking us out of our abulia. And when the chorus once again pronounces the phrase “every little thing is gonna be alright”, which already appeared in the refrain, we are ready to face the day with renewed optimism. I said “no names” so I won’t mention any, but the guest from the previous track, although not here, is present in spirit….
Then there are the eight precious minutes of “Treasure”, filled with vibrant vocals on a guitar arpeggio, a delicate carpet of organ and brushed drums until the unexpected change of scene…. when crystalline and effected guitars act as background to a succession of voices that follow each other and cross in a reverberated atmosphere that lasts for five magical minutes.
In short, an album that surprises for the quality of the writing, especially in the long tracks that do not suffer at all from the extended duration, on the contrary! A writing that is enhanced by elaborate but at the same time warm arrangements and measured and elegant execution.
I hope I have managed to intrigue you. Now it’s your turn, and if you decide to give the album a chance, I think you won’t regret it.
Let’s move on to the second album I wanted to talk about.
It happened to me several times in my career as a compulsive record buyer to buy albums for pennies based only on the cover image or the charm of a peculiar name. That’s why a curious name like Alabaster dePlume couldn’t help but excite me regardless of the content of the work, of which I was completely unaware.
From the very first moments of ‘The Corner of a Sphere’ I can see that my old instincts have not lost the brilliance of the old days.
The first track ‘Is It Enough’ starts with a syncopated guitar, a shrill voice not too interested in intonation followed by a velvety saxophone phrasing, immediately doubled by a toy keyboard. The piece continues in this way until a crescendo where the previous phrasing is reinforced by a chorus and the entrance of the drums.
I know it’s not easy to understand what comes out of what I’ve just described, but that’s part of the charm of this elusive and unpredictable record.
I don’t know how else to describe ‘I want a red car’ than a Tom Waits song on hallucinogenic drugs sung by the Central Scrutinizer of Frank Zappa‘s Joe’s Garage. There you go, here are the names I promised not to say, but I assure you that they do not reveal that much because of the uniqueness of the proposal.
Still not enough?
Then let’s go on and we will find a bewildered bossa nova for informal voice and choir, cello and various bells, a spoken word resting on a stratified base of sounds, noises and disturbances that slowly rise, nocturnal blues, unbalanced gospel, jazzy wind blasts, spiritual jazz and so on and so forth.
Now I know what your objection is going to be: is this going to be the usual mess of a lot of smoke and not much fire? A divertissement that makes you raise your eyebrows at the first listen, but then ends up gathering dust on the shelf?
After several listenings, I can affirm that this is an ephemeral work but a definitely solid record and above all paradoxically cohesive in spite of its kaleidoscopic nature. Alabaster (voice and saxophonist) intelligently assembles a changing record that is based on a series of fixed points that provide stability. The crooked voice, the saxophone with its round and vibrant sound, the crescendo structure of the tracks, the use of choirs, the mocking and slightly freaky atmosphere, and the articulated and stratified production provide the listener with the necessary elements not to get lost.
I was talking about the production and I can’t not mention the person responsible of this, Danalogue, known as the keyboardist of Comet Is Coming together with Shabaka Hutchings (the spearhead of the English new jazz scene where Alabaster is very popular).
To sum up, my invitation to those who read (but also a warning to myself) is not to lose the ability to be surprised and to listen not only to the voice of others, journalists, music lovers and friends, but also the inner one, the instinct that makes us mysteriously raise our antennae in front of an unknown record or artist. Of course, we might end up with a fistful of flies in our hands but also, as in my case, two of the best records of 2017 and 2018.
