In Gowan Ring - Hazel Steps Through a Weathered Home
(BlueSanct)
Jon Michael B'eirth has been making strange and unusual, some might say "wyrd" folk music for nearly a decade now under the name In Gowan Ring. On this, his ninth full-length (including early cassette-only releases, a Compendium of greatest hits, and a couple of compilations of outtakes and alternate versions known as Exists & Entr'Ances) and first for Chicago-based Blue Sanct, home of (and run by) Drekka's Michael Anderson, Jon adds to a unique canon of work that occasionally crosses paths with other folkie non-conformists Gryphon, The Fool, Martyn Bates, the Third Ear and Incredible String Bands, Simon and Garfunkel (he has also recorded a version of "Scarborough Fair," which he called "The First True Love"), Fit & Limo, and several acts centered around Timothy Renner (Stone Breath, Mourning Cloak, Timothy the Revelator), with whom Jon shared a stage at the fourth Terrastock festival in Seattle a couple of years ago.
The opening track, "Orb Weavers," is rich with horns, cellos, and violins, such that comparisons with the mellower side of early King Crimson will immediately spring to mind (particularly "Cadence and Cascade" in this instance, but any of the first four will give you an accurate benchmark to gauge the sound in your mind's ear as you progress through the album.) The velvety harmonies on the title track beckon Paul and Art into your consciousness, and the madrigal, round-like vocals are reminiscent of the material the old Viking busker, Moondog was shouting from NYC street corners some 40-odd years ago.
You'll find vestiges of Donovan's "Writer in the Sun," "Lullabye of the Spring," "Sand and Foam," etc. in "The Seer and The Seen," but B'Eirth brings an almost religious fervor to the track, much like a priest singing high mass or a Cantor entertaining his congregation. Elsewhere, the intimacy of the flute driven thing that is "Kingdom of The Shades" bleeds across the entire release, leaving this listener with a warm and fuzzy feeling—as if Jon Michael were standing in my living room, delivering a personal concert for a cadre of my closest friends.
In a time when the world is moving much too fast, Jon Michael not only takes the time to stop and smell the roses, he's kneeling down to plant the seeds, and squatting Buddha-like to watch those roses grow. Another aspect of his songwriting that recalls the best of Donovan is the ease with which he slides into gentle, memorable, almost childlike melodies, a talent he also shares with John Prine. Like those masterful songwriters, there is a depth to these songs that is revealed only upon repeated listens. At first the ear is attracted to the surface melody, but after listening a second time, I uncovered the delicate addition of a flute-like sackbut, a gently strummed cittern, a violin, or one of Jon's homemade instruments in the background or in the left or right channel that the ear missed the first time through. (The instrumental coda to "A Poet's Lyre" provides an excellent opportunity to examine this special feature.) It is this natural gift for creating multi-layered compositions that is so attractive about Jon's work in general and Hazel Steps through a Weathered Home in particular.
Yet in spite of all this seemingly subliminal activity, these compositions don't sound busy or overly complicated, as if Jon were trying to cram too much "information" into the song. Indeed, there are not 5,000 layers to this onion, but the melancholia, intimacy, and nostalgia of just two or three will bring many listeners close to tears. If there is a drawback to an otherwise perfect collection, it's that some listeners will become impatient with the restraint that Jon brings to these pieces. Sadly, not everyone is prepared to shut down their self-inflicted "busy schedules" to give Hazel Steps through a Weathered Home the patience and time it needs to be appreciated. But it is these listeners' loss. The rest of us need more releases like this. As the saintly, monklike B'eirth has continually demonstrated over the last decade, patience, silence, and space DO have a place in this rat race of a world. We all should, nay, must take the time to plant some roses. Quite simply, one of the half dozen or so best releases of the year. Go hence, and acquire ye thusly.
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