Spring has sprung, finally, with the occasional sun break and even a little bit of warm weather. It's time to start cutting the grass again, and the migrating geese are blocking traffic on West Marginal Way. In keeping with the spirit of the season, this issue's Earth Tones has plenty of springtime music to warm your bones. That may seem like an odd description of Peter Murphy's work, but his new album has a gentle radiance without sacrificing any of his trademark intensity. The popularity of Irish instrumentalists Lúnasa has led to the American release of the 1996 debut, and Northern Blues, the Toronto-based blues label, has another winner in Harry Manx's Wise and Otherwise. Two new releases from the Red Feather label provide all the Native American flute music you could possibly need, and Seattle-based singer-songwriter Jill Cohn is back with Window to the Wise, a moving and highly personal collection of work.
First out of the gate, I'd like to heartily endorse the latest solo release from Peter Murphy, Dust (Metropolis). The former Bauhaus frontman moved to Metropolis for his last release, 2001's Alive Just for Love; judging by that album and this new release, the fit is an excellent one. Dust is modestly gorgeous, a subtle blend of Murphy's usual goth-rock tropes, plus the addition of a distinctly Middle Eastern flavor in melody and rhythm. The combination works exceedingly well, with Murphy's deep, rich vocals contrasting nicely with the delicately layered music. Instrumentation is also expertly handled; for instance, the cello on "Fake Sparkle or Golden Dust?" is hardly unexpected, but the way it weaves through the music, in counterpoint to the vocals, perfectly suits the song's mood and aesthetic. Occasionally, as on the yearning, highly danceable "Just for Love," the arrangements may remind one of Loreena McKennitt, of all people; that's simply because, on releases such as The Mask and Mirror, McKennitt explored a similar aesthetic. There's also a new version of "Subway" from 1995's Cascade, with a real violin (courtesy of Hugh Marsh) instead of a synthesizer; it's surprising just how much difference it makes. Richly textured and musically sophisticated, Dust is an enveloping listening experience, but many of the songs have that trancelike quality that's so well suited to your next dance-oriented ritual--the slower numbers, in particular, allow for breathing room without lessening the intensity.
Just in time for Beltane comes the American release of Irish group Lúnasa's 1996 self-titled debut, courtesy of Compass Records. Lúnasa, you'll recall, released The Merry Sisters of Fate (Green Linnet) just in time for the holiday from which they take their name last year; if the crowd at their recent show at the Tractor Tavern is any indication, they've got a large, enthusiastic, and growing fan base here in the States, so this re-release (the album was previously available by import only) is especially welcome. It's not as polished as their more recent albums, as one might expect, but in a way the recording's somewhat rawer quality is perfectly suited to spring. And there's even a piece titled "Bealtaine," wherein a slow reel alternates with several jig tunes in a concerto-like structure. It, and the rest of this collection, is simply perfect if you're planning any sort of Beltane-related shindig; this is also, as you might expect, highly danceable music, with plenty of variety of tempo and mood while maintaining an overall stylistic evenness. As an added convenience, the track listing on the back of the CD case tells you not only the title of each piece, but the type of tune or tunes you can expect. If you're seeking a hornpipe, for instance, cue up "Aibreann"; if it's reels you want, "Meitheamh" fits the bill. Of course, as with much music in this genre, most of the songs are medleys, but the transitions are seamless, the entire band shifting gears as smoothly as a perfectly tuned auto transmission.
Less springlike, but with the sweet aura of a slow sunrise, is Harry Manx's second CD, Wise and Otherwise (Northern Blues). Nominally a blues musician, Manx, like so many bluesmen these days, brings in another genre or two to spice things up; but in his selection of Indian tunes and stylistic improvisation--in addition to guitar, banjo, and harmonica, he also plays the veena, a South Indian stringed instrument with a distinctive tone--he has, perhaps, wandered farther afield than most. I mean that literally; Manx lived in India for 25 years, and the aesthetics and mysticism of that country permeate his music. What's striking is how well this combination works; too often, such combinations of style sound contrived, but that is emphatically not the case here. Blues music is often imbued with a spiritual sensibility, usually a Christian one; here, Manx inclusively broadens his music's spiritual scope while sacrificing none of its impact, an impressive feat. One of his more daring experiments is to open a rendition of B.B. King's classic "The Thrill is Gone" with an Indian raga; what's stunning is how well this works. In the liner notes, Manx describes his habit of taking his veena out into the woods near his Canadian home and playing a song or two to the morning. That atmosphere is present everywhere on Wise and Otherwise, from the acoustic country-influenced "Only Then Will Your House Be Blessed," to the folk-balladic "Don't Forget to Miss Me," to the closing instrumental "Raga Nat Bhariav." There's a thoughtful, meditative quality to Manx's work; he's often compared to Pacific Northwest folk bluesman Kelly Joe Phelps, and it's easy to hear the resemblance of spirit.
Similarly meditative in mood is Gary Stroutsos' Echoes of Canyon de Chelly (Red Feather). In order to record this collection of Native American flute pieces, Stroutsos and friend and collaborator Paul Thompson went to the canyon for which the album is named, in the company of Navajo guide Hadley Toise. It's a quiet, unassuming piece of work, though there's the occasional natural intrusion; a raven's croak made its way onto "Zuni Coming In Song," for instance. The collection consists of traditional songs, plus original compositions and improvisations, one blending into the next as the individual tracks run together. It's similar to the many recordings of shakuhachi music on the market; like them, Echoes of Canyon de Chelly is definitely suited to meditation and other, similarly quiet activities; you might, for instance, like to use it for guided meditation or visualization exercises.
Similar in spirit, though with somewhat more variety, is Mesa Sunrise: The Essential John Huling (Red Feather). Perhaps because it's a best-of collection, it's not unified by a single mood or guiding aesthetic as Echoes of Canyon de Chelly is. On the other hand, that might be a good thing; a big problem with music in the New Age and/or pan-ethnic genres is that any one album tends to be cursed by a bland stylistic sameness, sort of the musical equivalent of tapioca. Whether that sort of problem haunts Huling's individual albums or not is separate question, but the danger is neatly avoided here, despite similarities of instrumentation and a few less-than-incisive titles (take "Sacred Rituals," for instance. Isn't that sort of redundant?). Still, there are plenty of standout selections here, including the trance-y "Breath of the Mountain," and the cool, swirly "Nightfall on Hoskinni," which is saved from obscurity by a remarkably subtle bass line that ties the piece together.
On the local front, singer-songwriter Jill Cohn's Window to the Wise (Boxobeanies Music) is, like her previous release, The Absence of Moving, as thoughtful and evocative as the title suggests. Her breathy voice, poetic balladry, and largely acoustic accompaniment might, at first glance, consign her to the formless mass of singer-songwriters who can all be similarly described; but, however subtly, Cohn stands out. For one thing, there's the spiritual content of her material; it's highly personal, yet empathetic, without pushing any particular belief. Then there's the frequent sharp lyrical turns; the first line of "Truthful Road" sounds like a hippy-drippyness warning ("Whatever happened to peace"), but the song goes on to sound a warning about the seductiveness of personal freedom: "I failed, I succeeded, I really didn't care/I took my freedom for granted, well it's better than being scared." Cohn is also a master of visual imagery: "I'm swimming in your skin/Dying to take you in," she sings on "Ask Me to Stay," or "I got all these dreams I drag around like an old blanket" on "Colorado." Cohn's song lyrics, in fact, are more interesting than a lot of what gets published as poetry, and she performs them with a lightness of heart that prevents the material from drowning in melodrama.
Save this date: Singer-songwriter Willow, whose most recent release, Sweet Dark Demon, was reviewed in the Litha issue last summer, is playing at Steel Sky Bistro in West Seattle on Saturday, May 25that 8pm. For information and driving directions, give `em a call at (206) 250-5605.
Genevieve Williams is a Seattle freelance writer and drummer. 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.