Ahhh...there's nothing like starting a sunny Sunday morning with a mug of hot water, a stick of sweet incense, and some mood music. Jon Porras' new record Black Mesa wastes no time getting right to things; immediately our ears are met with a twangy, lush, and airy motif that sets the tone for the rest of the record.
The elders speak of the great Black Mesa, a mysterious and introspective space; a place seekers wish to explore in hopes of an initiation to a deeper plane of awareness. There is something up there, on or within the plateau...an organic mirror that reflects our true self with no bias. By way of the mirror we become the third person experiencing the extremes of both our positive and negative. Undulations of emotion trigger memories and dreams that move us, and move through us, until a stillness takes hold. Then through careful watching and breathing, our light and our shadow become one, and inseparable from the light and shadow of the world.
Porras captures the essence and ritual, not only of this figurative mirror, but also of the journey to discover it. Preparing ourselves for the spiritual rite, working our way to the top of the mesa, and following our instinctual guides to where we need to be taken. Our time on the Black Mesa is well spent in roaming and searching the dark corners of ourselves...and through an understanding of our cosmic composition, casting brilliant and boundless healing light into our own hearts.
I was not aware that this record existed until Jon Porras mentioned it to me last autumn during the Lost In The Glare tour stop in Allston, MA. Garden Sound was a one-off collaboration project by Barn Owl (Evan Caminiti & Jon Porras) with Dewey Mahood and Jed Bindeman of Eternal Tapestry. When hunting down the quite limited pressing of Black Summit, I surprisingly stumbled upon a like-new copy which I purchased for fifteen American dollars. A great find.
Knowing both the sound of Barn Owl and Eternal Tapestry, Black Summit sounds pretty much like one would anticipate...and this is not a bad thing in the slightest. Dewey and Jed are here providing ET's garage psych rock foundation - even steady beats and percussive accents to repeating guitar motifs and variations on thereof. Barn Owl fill in the gaps with drone and feedback, topping off the mix with light touches of entrancing chiming nuances left to ring out.
The record exudes a mystic atmosphere - not overbearingly dark, but heavily foreboding. As the observer it is often easy to feel as though you are on the edge, waiting for the break, fall, or spill to take take you to a plateau of resolution. This may be because, though relaxed, there is often more going on than at first glance. The three guitars overlap, complementing and augmenting each other in a way that embraces the leading edge of presence...something often experienced in good improvisation; Black Summit has a bit of that live vibe. You can feel each piece working to carry things through from one section to the next quite naturally...but also that it could have happened in any number of ways. The percussion seems to effortlessly reel things in and keep it grounded - from getting too drawn or too stagnant. The second track (found below) is the heaviest and most immediately intense of the four, in which each element is more narrowly focused on creating a particular and singular whole sound movement.
I'm very happy with my purchase. Black Summit has made a lovely and unique addition to my collection.
I was introduced to San Francisco's Sleepy Sun a couple of weeks ago and cannot stop listening...nor could I resist the sweetness of their sound on vinyl. Both Embrace and Fever, their first two albums, arrived by post this weekend. Their third, Spine Hits, will be released April 10th and supported by a lengthy tour. I've preordered my copy at The End Records' webstore for a mere $12.99. Rumor has it that we came very close to getting a tour date right here in Peterborough, NH that fell through...quite disappointing.
I love high grade vinyl...too much, perhaps. Both these discs are top notch pressings and filled with classic rock haze. Like when the sun is muted behind a veil of passing clouds that eventually break and give passage to the intensity of light, energy, and warmth - Sleepy Sun oscillate beautifully between the shimmer of mellow psychedelic hippy jams and an electric cascade of stoner fuzz rock-and-roll. The softest moments are stripped down to acoustic folk ditties, while the heaviest are rich with warm distortion and falling-tree riffs. It's quite possible that Sleepy Sun are equally as influenced by Simon and Garfunkel as they are early Black Sabbath. Vocals throughout are smooth and robust, featuring male and female voice in duet and lush harmony. The integration of all these elements couldn't be more fluid and natural; Sleepy Sun make lovely, lovely work.
Wild Machines (Fever)
Golden Artifact Official Video (Embrace)
I highly recommend checking them out, with Fever as a starting point.
February 4, 2012. I had not been to Jaffrey's Mindful Books in years. Last night I finally made my way back to scope out The Listening Room - a series of intimate musical performances. This instance featured New Hampshire's own Redwing Blackbird and Maine's Arborea.
Redwing Blackbird had indeed been busy since the last time I caught them. That I could tell, their set featured only new songs - Austin putting down his six nylon strings in exchange for solid-body electricity. The folky acoustic duo here offered a hybrid flavor: strumming and plucking was married to shimmering and warmly driven amplified textures. Mellow, humble songwriting and sincere words sung true and harmonized, remained present and unmistakable. Hearing RWBB play is like getting a hug from a good friend: inviting, calm, refreshing, and reassuring. I'm very much looking forward to their next record, and you should be too.
Redwing Blackbird - Nightingale live on NHPR
Husband and wife Buck and Shanti Curran, a.k.a Arborea, play a delightful blend of airy psychedelic folk/folk rock. A wide variety of instrumentation lends itself to the sweet and sweeping musical backdrop as the duo switch on and off. The twanging of banjo or ukulele, droning of harmonium, or combination timbre of ban-jammer is paired with guitar - sometimes an electric played with EBow or glass slide, other times a steel-string acoustic carefully strummed. This is all transcended by Shanti's crystalline empyrean voice that effortlessly moves through the room and into your chest. Arborea soaks in to your heart and finds it's way to the part of you that resides below surface-level patterns and drama. There it steeps, adding strength to one's purpose and ease to unfolding. Just close your eyes and be.
Arborea - Black Is The Color
Last night was much needed. I've lately found myself in a restricted space, out of tune...unmotivated and unaligned with love. Meeting some new people and sharing the gift of these two band's music, energy, and motion has helped to remind me of where I am called to be - floating along again as my own vector of life's great current, rather than an entity separate and caught in its tides. Thank you.
Lost In The Glare is Barn Owl's latest release and their most cohesive record to date. Engaging the listener even more so than previous offerings, it narrates a story from beginning to end in which our subconscious is free to assign the setting and symbols. This will of course differ from person to person, but so too will it differ on each spin for the same listener, never quite setting you down where you would expect based on previous listens. Each observation of the album is unique in some way - the mark of a truly great record.
Your particular journey may start in the sands of a sun-drenched desert gazing into a blue sky...or perhaps you find yourself waking in the forest as the first rays of morning sun cast through the spaces between bark, limb, and leaf. It may take you to the top of a dune, gazing into the chill starry night, or down a wooded dirt path you've never traversed to a lost meadow, illuminated by moonlight. Regardless, the celestial - sun, sky, stars, or moon - and terrestrial -sand, dirt, rock, or brush - are key. Lost In the Glare provides an experience comprised of this duality of energy and its embodiment as our conscious physical form.
This album transcends the mysterious familiarity of its predecessor and provides its own paradox. Lost In The Glare is more earthly and human than the ethereal, spacey, and mystic Shadowland - its closer to our natural experience. As it spins it waivers back and forth between two worlds: the physical empirical micro world, and the metaphysical cosmic macro world. Age old is the contemplation of the spirit, mind, or consciousness and just how it is connected to our corporeal flesh, blood, and bones: the Mind-body Dichotomy. We can deliberately deny one or the other, but it never quite works...we feel that we denounce a part of ourselves or our experience.
We can assume a strictly physical world of cause and effect, actions and reactions...but what and when was the initial motion? How did it happen? What existed before it? What is our consciousness? Physics and science is our ever-changing theory to make sense of what we observe. Very often a scientific breakthrough changes how we think of the world, leaving us in doubt of the "laws" we typically assume and take for granted.
We can also assume a strictly non-physical reality where everything we perceive is a creation of our mind alone...but then why do we experience life the way we do? Why do all of our sensations and day-to-day passages of time feel so convincing and believable as an external physical world? Are the other people we encounter in our lives real or just part of our mind's dream as well? Why would our mind create a world in which we experience pain, disappointment, and so many unknowns? If this experience originates in our mind why are we unaware that is case?
Lost In The Glare is a sonic expression that, perhaps subconsciously, reflects the human spiritual condition and the problematic duality of the very nature of our existence. Its pieces wander between the warming, white energy of the celestial sky and the heavy, buzzing energy of the Earth. The former enters through the scalp and crown, and runs down into the lungs, and pulls up to the heavens - a perfect love and presence represented by the synths, feedback, and airy electric guitars. The latter vibrates and shimmies its way up through the feet and into the belly, and pulls down to the Earth's center - a massive hearth of rock bisecting two intense magnetic poles represented by the strummed and plucked acoustic strings, rhythmic percussion, and gritty electric tones. We find ourselves in the middle - sometimes spiritual beings in a spiritual world, and other times physical beings in a physical world. We try to understand our condition as a bridge connecting our two conceptual worlds, but cannot quite see how it all fits.
Without the personal spiritual revelation that reveals the oneness of these seemingly two different worlds we will forever search. The problem really isn't a problem, but rather an illusion born of our perception of a duality...the problem is the very duality we think we are experiencing. We are of the earth and of the cosmos - we are of substance and of space - we are of the same infinite fabric of all that is. With this realization is also one of the holiness of flesh and the sacred observation of time. Barn Owl's record reaches far and is an absolutely profound expression, and an astonishing work of art. It's a set of signposts that point to this singularity, and even momentarily touch upon it by use of the gong and a very fuzzed-drenched guitar. These two provide timbres that resonate with both earth and celestial energies thusly bringing our two worlds together...but it's just a glimpse. Indeed, we may find ourselves at the end of our story searching in meditation while the answer lay without - lost in the glare.
The Darkest Night Since 1683 - The earth is lit only by the energy of stars. A dark night is one in which the sun's light
nearly does not reflect at all from the surface of the Earth's moon, nor the light of other stars reach Earth through a thick veil
of atmosphere, and perhaps some far off interference in space. Sometimes we forget the grand scale of conditions that
provide the means for our life and ability to sense the world.
September 16th, 2011. Through the September night chill my good friend Cassandra and I walked a handful of city blocks from where we parked to the micro venue that is O'Brien's Pub in Allston, MA. In a space maybe a tad larger than twice the size of my living room was contained a bar, corner stage, and makeshift merch table. The four acts to perform that evening could be found mingling with members of the audience, who were few and fortunate. O'Brien's was buzzing with a mellow warmth - an anticipating, welcoming, and thankful energy.
Stillborn, the first opener, served us a twitchy electronic onslaught chalk full of amazing transitions - abrupt yet strangely smooth at the same time. Imagine a time signature, tempo, and key change somehow occurring naturally over the course of a measure or two; it'd be enough to slap you in the face but Stillborn makes it easy...leaving you wondering just how the hell he did it. Next was Lussuria's dark, ambient, and swelling synthezised soundscapes. Containing some industrial nods the undertone was cold and grim, but, as two strangers can bond through grief, also presented a gesture of universal connection. The third opener, High Aura'd, was slightly more organic - one man looping several layers of effects-drenched guitar, hum, and feedback. An immense repetitious drone stuck to the air in the club as he worked through his set, successfully and gracefully closing the loop from the first two openers to the main performance of the evening.
Barn Owl's Jon Porras and Evan Caminiti finally took the stage and what followed left me in awe. The sounds found on their records were here impeccably reproduced in raw live spirit. Layered waves of a weaving sonic tapestry pushed out the walls as we settled in to a growing space. The fact that this full sound - swirling, shimmering, soaring, and shaking - was being produced by just two men on stage was truly astonishing. Most impressive was their unbeleivable mastery of feedback. Barn Owl uncannily induce precise tones, timbre, and squeal as elements of their compositions.
They moved beautifully through their set without speaking nor recieving applause, which was held until the end. Their eyes closed in focus, bodies swaying and swinging naturally through meditative musical practice, Barn Owl's live experience - much like their recordings - can be both cathartic and transcendentally affirming. It was evident that Porras and Caminiti were incredibly tuned in to each other during their performance; it was as though they were one creative entity, existing only and continuously as the moment in which their sound became music. Absolutely astounding.
Lately I've been immersing myself in the genres of drone, psychedelic, trance, and ambient rock. At the forefront within this blend of genres, for me, is Barn Owl as they have indeed been keeping me in awe. Yesterday, from Thrill Jockey, I received an early copy of their new Shadowland EP, due Summer Solstice - June 21st.
Shadowland's cover art complements its music quite beautifully. Evan Caminiti's painting depicts a marbled grey and white orb shrouded in a mesh of cottony purple clouds - perhaps the moon enveloped by the shadows within our earth's night sky...or perhaps another world somewhere in the depths of the universe, unknown to us save for its soundtrack which we are about to observe. The vinyl disc is a wonderful clear/white swirl, which adds to the mystique of the record's artwork. This is one of those records that begs the listener to prop up the sleeve for viewing while it spins on the turntable. So what do we hear? Shadowland finds Barn Owl in a darker, much more mysterious place than perhaps they were when writing Ancestral Star. Shadowland focuses its drone and repetitive elements in a way that creates a paradox of a world - one that is equally as warming and inviting as it is cryptic and eerie. It has an amazing transporting quality to it; we find ourselves somewhere we never dreamed could exist, but that is also somehow a familiar place of our past...something from long ago that we only somewhat primordially understand. Synths chime, sweep, and float through layers of guitars and piano whilst an indeterminate buzz collects at the bottom. There is a duality of tones at work - some elevated, shimmering, and airy, others screeching, droning, and grounded. The title track features a fluttering, wavering pitch warble that will catch you at just the right moments. Yes this record is quite agreeably palatable and savory to the ears and soul.
All that said, I am a bit disappointed in the pressing quality. I've cleaned the record and my stylus a number of times but still hear several pops and cracks throughout playback. Also, some imperfections on the edge of the disc can be easily found. Luckily Thrill Jockey has a habit of providing free digital downloads along with their vinyl. Barn Owl also have a full length album due on September 13th, called Lost In The Glare...I can't wait.
Lost In The Glare is a sonic expression that, perhaps subconsciously, reflects the human spiritual condition and the problematic duality of the very nature of our existence. Its pieces wander between the warming, white energy of the celestial sky and the heavy, buzzing energy of the Earth. The former enters through the scalp and crown, and runs down into the lungs, and pulls up to the heavens - a perfect love and presence represented by the synths, feedback, and airy electric guitars. The latter vibrates and shimmies its way up through the feet and into the belly, and pulls down to the Earth's center - a massive hearth of rock bisecting two intense magnetic poles represented by the strummed and plucked acoustic strings, rhythmic percussion, and gritty electric tones. We find ourselves in the middle - sometimes spiritual beings in a spiritual world, and other times physical beings in a physical world. We try to understand our condition as a bridge connecting our two conceptual worlds, but cannot quite see how it all fits.
