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by Genevieve Williams
Welcome to winter, dear readers. It should come as no surprise that this edition of Earth Tones turns once again northward, with a fair bit of gloom along the way -- or at least melancholy. Melancholy, in fact, is a good description for the debut album from Without Gravity. Those of you who are familiar with the concept will have some idea what to expect from the Doug Cox and Sam Hurrie album titled Hungry Ghosts. Just as bluesy in its own way, although with a bit more heat, is the latest album from fado singer Mariza, and Väsen livens things up with a brand new live album. Finally, American roots singer Tim Eriksen has darkness on his mind with Every Sound Below.
Warmth from Iceland
Wintry-soft guitar-driven pop is the specialty of Iceland's Without Gravity. Their debut, titled Tenderfoot (One Little Indian) shows that, as riddled with clichés and sentiment as it has become, there's still life and room for invention in the emo/shoegazer realm of pop music. Tenderfoot is so quietly unassuming that the music's considerable power sneaks up on you and tosses a blanket over your emotions almost before you're aware of it. Depending on your mood, this will either make you smile or move you to tears.
Yule is a time of grim cold and the death of sleep, but there's another side to that, and it's one given luminous exposition here: This is candlelit music, homey and comforting as an evening by the hearth, with snow outside. At the center of the ensemble are singer/guitarist Kalli and guitarist Konni, and their music began exactly where you'd expect it would: a living room. From there it branched out to tiny bars and cafés, and Tenderfoot sustains this sense of intimacy. Although the band is Icelandic, the songs on Tenderfoot are sung in English, the lyrics emotionally evocative and often haunting. This is a beautiful piece of work, highly recommended.
Blues from Canada
Those among you who are up on your Buddhism will recognize the reference in the title of Doug Cox and Sam Hurrie's debut album, Hungry Ghosts (NorthernBlues). Named for one of the least desirable realms on the Wheel of Samsara, Hungry Ghosts lives up to its name. Not that it's a bad album; quite the contrary, in fact. But if you think about it, blues music is all about this realm: hungers that can't be satisfied, desires that can't be sated, and no readily apparent way out.
Indeed, much of Hungry Ghosts serves as a cautionary tale. Cox and Hurrie warn you to "Beware of the Man (Who Calls You Bro)" and point out (as the great blues man Son House did before them) that the people who are "Grinning in Your Face" are likely stabbing you in the back. They've got "No Expectations"; it's "Fear" and "Bad News," all the way down the line.
Only, not quite: As with all good blues music, this album contains a fair bit of sunshine, especially "Carry Me Away" and closer "Red Haired Raga." Like Harry Manx, who's also on NorthernBlues and whom I've mentioned more than once in this column, Cox and Hurrie engage in a fusion of East and West that has been rarely seen, and the result is mellow, warm-hearted and unabashedly intelligent. Sure, life sucks, Cox and Hurrie seem to say; but even in the realm of the hungry ghosts, you're not alone.
Spice from
If you're in the mood for something spicier, Transparente (Times Square Records) might well fit the bill. The third release from acclaimed Portuguese fado singer Mariza is a delight to the ears, as Mariza extends her considerable technical and expressive range to new extremes. Mariza is not a traditionalist, preferring to incorporate instruments and musical styles beyond those habitually used. She takes a modern approach to the music while remaining respectful of its source. Pop it's not, retaining those elements that make fado so compelling: its raw emotional content, gorgeous melodies, and distinctly Portuguese characteristics of sound and structure. I've compared it to the blues in reviews of Mísia, another fado singer, and I'm not the only one to draw that comparison -- it has the same rooted power and emotional intimacy. Although some songs on this album, including the title track, stray further from that root than might be ideal, overall Transparente is as intriguing and forceful as Mariza's previous work.
Light from
Regular readers of Earth Tones need no introduction to the work of Swedish ensemble Väsen. You already know about their lively, ear-catching music, with the high, sweet strains of the nyckelharpa taking prominence with fiddle and guitar as backup. You've probably got a copy of their previous release, Keyed Up (NorthSide), especially if you've run into me at a party and I've insisted on playing it for you. Perhaps you saw them at the Triple Door this past spring on my recommendation (we may even have been sitting at the same table). In any case, you don't need me to tell you that there's something incredibly riveting about this unassuming trio, despite -- or perhaps because -- their material and their way of performing it is so friendly, charming, and--dare I say it? -- Polite.
Väsen's appeal isn't confined to the West, as their
latest album, Live in
Folk from
Last, but most certainly not least, is the most recent album from Tim Eriksen. I've followed Eriksen's work for awhile, from when I used to go see Cordelia's Dad, a roots/folk/punk/a few other things band he fronted in New England, through his branching out into other projects and finally some solo efforts. He's recently attracted a great deal of attention for his work on the Cold Mountain soundtrack. Every Sound Below (Appleseed), his second solo release, is similarly low-key but surprisingly intense material that hearkens to the days before recording technologies, when people had to make their own musical entertainment. As such, this is a rough, raw recording, consisting entirely of Eriksen's voice and some instrumental accompaniment (plus an instrumental number or two). It's an interesting album not only because it's good -- which it is -- but also because it brings to light the taproot of American music.
Eriksen's musical course has been an interesting one, from punk-rock interpretations of New England and Appalachian folk songs to more traditional renderings, but the journey has resulted in a performance of substantial depth and expressive effect. Every Sound Below may not win new converts to the genre; Eriksen may be too introverted for that. For fans of this kind of music, though, the album achieves substantial introspective and evocative effect. And of course, like folk music everywhere, these songs concern death, despair, violence, and occasionally, renewal. Perfect for the dark of the year.
As always, thanks for reading. The next edition of Earth Tones will be a little different, as I'll talk about pagan music on the Web, where to look for music online, and why buying a CD from Sony just became a really bad idea.
Genevieve Williams is a freelance writer and drummer who lives in Seattle. She can be reached at rimrun@drizzle.com with feedback, suggestions or recommendations. Local musicians and pagan groups are encouraged to submit material for review and show listings.
Copyright © 2006 by the article's author