Pothole Skinny - Time Shapes the Forest Lake
(Perhaps Transparent)
With former members of Tower Recordings, Elf Power, PG Six, and Fable Factory in the ranks, this trio (Stephen Connolly, Scott Freyer and Frank Murphy) just may be the first wyrdfolk supergroup. Recorded in my home state (New Jersey), there are references to northwest NJ's premiere indie nightclub ("Kroghs' Whisper") and an old defunct rail line ("The Sussex Railroad Song"), but the music is universal and will appeal to avant-folk fans around the world. "Antique Gasoline" is a gentle folksong with a soft, quiet, sparse backing from initially an acoustic guitar, which gradually builds in emotion and instrumentation to include harmonium, flute, harp, cello and gopichand. Comparisons with Ghost, Atman, Magic Carpathians, In Gowan Ring, and Stone Breath are justified and the forlorn and mellow moods that are sustained throughout will appeal to fans of both the parent projects mentioned at the beginning as well as brooding folkies like Ben Chasney (Six Organs of Admittance), Fit & Limo, David Tibet (Current 93), and Martyn Bates (Eyeless in Gaza).
"Scroll of Westport Quay" is musical ambrosia composed for djembe, chimes, bodhran, udu and cello and continues the stoney vibe of becoming one with your easy-chair. If there is any downside at all, it is Connolly's effeminate vocals (which had me hunting through the credits trying to find out the name of the gal doing all the singing, although, to be fair, "she" may be uncredited) and the unintelligible use of field recordings that interrupts the smooth mood. This may, however, catch the ear of fans of Finnish avant wyrdfolksters, Kamielliset Ystevet and Origami Arktika. Others may want to jump to the next track at about the four-minute mark.
Frank Murphy's sharp electric guitar scraping on "The Ernest Equinox" is another buzzkiller, as are the guttural utterances, which yield to asymmetrical, Magic Band-styled guitarrorisms. It's not for the faint of heart and, in such harsh contrast to the rest of the album, seems to have been recorded by an entirely different band. Another prime candidate for the "skip" button.
But decorum is restored on the beautiful instrumental "May-Gun Explosive Flower," an exercise in contrasts, from its oxymoronic title to the romantically flowing cello work of Kirsten McCord. Finally, the closing "When Morpheus Calls for Slumber" is another candidate for that mix tape you've been building of the best songs to fall asleep to. In fact, the lengthy coda, which continues for more than half of its three-and-a-half minute length is the epitome of the stereotypical "speaker hum." Sweat dreams are, indeed, made of this fine entry in the ever-widening wyrdfolk canon, and while this one emphasizes the first syllable, it is still recommended to fans of the aforementioned artists.
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