Let's get this started with an album that is easy to write about.
With nods to to Riley/Reich style minimalism, Bluegrass inspired rock, drone, jazz, and a plethora of other styles and genres The Andrew Weather's Ensemble's final release "The Thousand Birds in the Earth, The Thousand Birds in the Sky" is a true tour de force of new music. From the very onset of "A Mountain of Snakes, The High Plains, A Knee in the Earth" we can hear a simultaneous slow drone of harmony holding deep the musical motion while above it saxophone, piano, percussion, guitar, and a whole orchestra of sounds build into an impressively complex but simultaneously simple sonic environment. Imitative of one's feeling standing in the openness of nature with the depth of stability in the ground below while life and nature move all around you. The orchestration is phenomenal and the blending of timbres immaculate. Released on August 3, 2020 on Full Spectrum Records, the album feels much like a safe harbor in the midst of such a tumultuous year.
In the description on BandCamp, it is written “the rolling, arid dessert of [Andrew Weathers] newfound home has proven a fitting canvas for what he terms a ‘Deep map of Self-psychogeography,’ blending imaginary and real landscapes an evocative whole that is at once both welcoming and strangely alien.” While this definitely feels like an apt description, for me this album provides almost a coming home sensation. Having spent years fluctuating between the serialist classical music of Boulez/Stockhausen/Babbitt, blast metal/technical death metal, deep techno/industrial, and other "extreme" genres, the minimalist base and vaguely tonal harmony of the Andrew Weathers Ensemble felt far more soothing and comfortable than much I had delved into previously. Yet, this music still offers a sense of newness, “avant-garde”-ness, and significant variation from the run of the mill radio station or typical bullshit Spotify playlist.
The second track, "An Unkindness of Ravens," keeps the untimed business of the first track but somehow feels more like a ballad. Perhaps it is the shimmering sounds of percussion and guitar or maybe the feel originates from the slow steady motion of a cello line that drifts in and out through the backdrop of the track. The seeming cacophony of rhythms is bound together through a consistent click of, I believe, a clave holding the sublime storm of timbres together. Weathers' vocal work flows through the mass like a wind through a storm, not in a chaotic or disruptive way, but more in a perfectly expected and necessary element in the totality of what is there.
The deep meditative drone of the Weathers Ensemble could, one would suppose, lead to a sense of boredom during the length of the album, but on the contrary, the music holds you with a shimmering beauty, much like the ripples of a pond present beauty against the stable depths of the water; the melodic motion keeps interest while the slow moving harmonies envelop the listener in a world not quite like what we experience every day.
"ReWild Your Friends," the third track makes me think of a love song; a call to those we care about to come with us to better times and better places. What better way to approach this new year? Calling to others "Look, we can be better. We can DO better. Come, be with us as we remake the world for the benefit of all!" The track feels somewhat scaled down compared to the others, but that enhances the sense of intimacy and openness that would be be expected from a love song.
The final song, "A Bisection Across a Circle Connecting Ozona and a Hill Near Zzyzx" opens with the impression of the final segments of a conversation between friends as they depart for new adventures. I can almost feel the old smokey barroom, as the players drift around, picking out moments of melody they played long ago, remembering the good times, the bad times, and all the times in between. Such and incredible sense of unity, and separation. I am listening to this amazing album again as I write these words, and this track is so captivating now looking back on the previous year. We all had to say goodbye to someone or something during 2020 and this final track seems full of those departures while still presenting the beauty of what was in full technicolor; metaphorically at least.
I spent New Years with the ensembles’s “Build a Mountain Where Our Bodies Fall” as the first album for my evening, and though it does not have the same gravitas and depth as Thousand Birds of Sky, it provides another excellent example of the genre blending style of The Andrew Weathers Ensemble. Were I not so enamored with "The Thousand Birds in the Earth, The Thousand Birds in the Sky" as to give it to a friend, it would have been the beginning album; but alas, much like the accursed year behind us, hindsight is 20/20. I should have bought two tapes.
If you have not given “The Thousand Birds of Sky, The Thousand Birds of Earth” a listen, I would highly recommend it. From there check out other albums from The Andrew Weathers Ensemble, Andrew Weathers, and Full Spectrum Records.
Until next time.
P.S. This post was written prior to the attempted coup and a storming of the U.S. Capitol Building by white supremacist terrorists. This post, in light of those events, feels somewhat deaf to the events unfolding so I wanted to make a short note that I do not agree in any way with the violence being used. I still feel that the music discussed in this post holds a sense of stability and reminds one of the grandeur of nature and how insignificant we can be in comparison. These times of unrest will eventually pass, keep working toward a better world but make sure you take care of yourself as well.
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