Early on in my quest to explore the not quite so transparent folk genre, I stumbled across an album called The Glinting Spade, by the interestingly named band In Gowan Ring. Up to that moment I had only known the raw, compact variety of folk (street folk?), so I was kind of surprised to find out that the music of In Gowan Ring has very little in common with the kind of folk I was familiar with. In fact, In Gowan Ring exists in a totally different musical dimension.

In Gowan Ring is the musical child of mysterious American troubadour B'eirth (also in Mary Throwing Stones and Puri-Do). He formed the band in the early '90s, but in all that time he has never been able to bring stability to the line-up. Prior to releasing The Glinting Spade, both a debut album called Love Charms and a follow-up entitled The Twin Trees were released on World Serpent.

The Glinting Spade is a very relaxing, laid-back kind of album. The music is slow, brooding and entrancing, and features a number of ambient, psychedelic soundscapes. In other words: it has all the time in the world to get where it is supposed to go. At times it doesn't even seem to flow in any discernible direction; instead the music just hits you with seemingly endless waves of folk-based psychedelica and simple, drone-ish patterns of sound. It is very easy to lose yourself in these entrancing soundscapes, provided you are willing to travel down that path.
One of the most striking aspects of In Gowan Ring's mystifying music is B'eirth's voice. His singing is strangely intoxicating, yet perfect in a weird, outerworldly fashion. I'm a little reluctant to refer to Fantasy-based imagery in this age of Harry Potter mania and Tolkien worship, but I feel I have to use the word 'elfish' to do adequate justice to this man's voice.

For the most part, the music of In Gowan Ring revolves around lengthy acoustic segments, with B'eirth singing simple but beautiful melodies over this acoustic fundament. Always present on the background are interesting, subtle details, which (hopefully) causes the experienced listener to realise that these segments may appear basic, but that in reality they hold a world of rudimentary, yet very stimulating ideas you can only remotely touch upon during your first listening session. More spins of this gem of an album definitely reward.
There are some typical folk parts to be found on The Glinting Spade (featuring, among others, interesting 'period' instruments such as sackbut and cornetto), which occasionally force themselves to the surface. Really excellent stuff, I might add. For example, the lengthy Cipher's String on the Tree ends with a piece of traditional Celtic music suddenly shoved aside to make way for a piece of uplifting, medieval street folk. Such sudden, refreshing changes of direction occur throughout the album, making it a fascinating listening experience. The elaborate soundscapes can, however, cause your mind to drift, so it important that you allow yourself to drift within the boundaries of the music, but attempt to maintain a grasp on what is happening as well, as a more structured piece of music is waiting to make it's appearance.

The Glinting Spade came as a total surprise to me. It's a great piece of music, best experienced either in the dark, through headphones, or when sitting in a garden on a beautiful spring day, while you admire the blossoming colours of the plant-life and appreciate the power of nature around you... And long for ancient times.