drcarlsonalbion — La Strega and the Cunning Man in the Smoke
More like Earth’s last release (Angels of Light, Demons of Darkness II) ‘La Strega…’ mines the songcraft of English folk music, but this time the enthusiasm is much more explicit. The album is almost entirely woven from cover versions through the ages: from the Elizabethan galliard of ‘The Faery Round’ through the 19th Century ballad ‘Reynardine’, to PJ Harvey’s ‘Last Living Rose’ from last year. And for a selection of music that spans several centuries with each track written by a different composer the album is surprisingly coherent, the arrangements even more ‘stripped-back’ than most of Earth’s output, being the product of just Carlson’s resplendent guitar and the flexible voice of Teresa Colmonacco.
Perhaps the most transformed of all is Anthony Holborne’s ‘The Faery Round’ a work dating back to the late 16th century that was included on the Voyager space probe to represent the music of the United Kingdom. Most versions available today are performed on a lute and last less than two minutes, but here Carlson expands it to over 13 minutes, transforming its jaunty pleasantries into a forlorn questing ballad featuring a gravely foghorn of restless guitar textures overlaid with the plucked notes of the original work played at a typically glacial pace.
But from hereon the interpretations are surprisingly, and a little disappointingly, faithful to the originals: ‘Reynardine’, a traditional song thought to be from the 1800s was made famous by Fairport Convention at the end of the Sixties, and their unhurried, spare production and wistful mood can be taken as something of a blueprint for this album. This is followed by takes on three other songs from the same era: The Kinks’ ‘Wicked Annabella’, Richard Thompson’s ‘Night Comes In’, and ‘Little Woman’ by lesser known folk-revivalists Mr Fox, before bringing things up-to-date with PJ Harvey’s ‘Last Living Rose’. Although there’s certainly no revolutions in these arrangements, Carlson and Colmonacco deftly demonstrate that there’s no need for a rhythm section to evoke the originals’ moods.
If anything, though, this album goes some way to prove that Dylan Carlson doesn’t need other people’s songs or even the accompaniment of other musicians: the best piece being the album’s sole original composition, ‘La Strega and the Cunning Man in the Smoke’. Like on both the Angels of Light, Demons of Darkness albums, here Carlson’s guitar is allowed plenty of room to showcase its rich, resonant properties as it slides and throbs through carefully sustained notes to summons a bleak but jubilant attitude, resolute and proud, wanting for nothing.