The life of a music lover knows no
down time, and so I find myself writing a review moments before I head out to
see a live show.
Tonight I’m going to see the
Canadian rockabilly/punk crossover band, “The Creepshow” at Logan’s Pub. If I’m
lucky enough to find their new album at the merch table I’ll review that next
along with the show. If not, well – I’ll review something else.
Speaking of reviewing something
else, here’s one of my better discoveries from last year.
Disc 1064 is…Blindfaller
Artist: Mandolin
Orange
Year of Release: 2016
What’s up with the Cover? A picture of a wildfire. My home
province of BC gets its fair share of these.
How I Came To Know It: I think I read a review of this
album and decided to check it out. Not that exciting of an origin story, but not
everything can start with some guy getting bitten by a radioactive spider.
How It Stacks Up: Mandolin Orange has five albums, but I only
have two: this one and 2015’s “Such Jubilee”. Of the two, I put “Blindfaller”
in at number one.
Ratings: 5 stars
After
listening to Iron Horse play some average bluegrass on their Guns N’ Roses
tribute album, I was hungry for some of the good stuff. The Dice Gods of the CD
Odyssey decided to oblige me, when I rolled the beautiful “Blindfaller” by Mandolin
Orange for my next review.
Mandolin
Orange is a folk-bluegrass crossover duo consisting of Andrew Marlin and Emily
Frantz. It is a terrible name for a band – don’t make your creative identity a
bad pun, folks – but they more than make up for it with exceptional singing,
songwriting and playing.
Bad name
aside, you’d expect a band called Mandolin Orange to have pre-eminent talent on
the mandolin, and Andrew Marlin does not disappoint. Even for an album that is
heavily influenced by bluegrass, this record features the mandolin a lot, and
not just keeping time. Marlin plays haunting trills, and poignant finger
picking that go beyond providing accents to the songs and become the main
event. His solo work on “Wildfire” will
make your soul soar. If you don’t believe in souls, then go listen to Marlin
play the mandolin and get back to me after.
Where
Marlin leaves off, band mate Emily Frantz steps in, providing the same level of
magic on the fiddle (or violin, it’s a bit of both in this case). Less
prevalent than the mandolin, Frantz’s fiddle is no less welcome when it floats
in to do a little soul-lifting of its own.
This
record is a pleasant reminder that the basic melodic structures of folk music make
playing with feeling and intensity that much more important. If it doesn’t
speak to the heart, it doesn’t work. Fortunately “Blindfaller” meets that challenge
and then some.
Marlin
and Frantz share the singing duties, and his voice, high with just a trace of
gravel (maybe just a trace of sand it is so light) is reminiscent of old
seventies country crooners like George Jones. Her voice is more straight and
pure folk music. They harmonize beautifully, but know well enough to not
overuse it.
The word
“Blindfaller” conjures up imagery of reckless loggers, not afraid to take down
a tree without knowing exactly where it is going to fall, which is an apt image
for the restless emotional energy that courses through the record. This is an
album with a lot of looking back, a fair bit of regret and a bit of perspective
shining through at the end.
From the
opening act of “Hey Stranger” with
its warning from age to youth to “not go
making mistakes like mine” to the album’s final track, “Take this Heart of Gold” where our narrator
has settled down and made the “right” choices, but can’t resist the siren’s
call of the road:
“Out the door, down the drive,
there’s part of me that tries
To keep that highway’s call to me
away
And another, further, still, that
sadly never will
Feel at home no matter how long I
may stay.”
This is
a record where there is no right choice. Instead, there is just a series of
decisions that you hope will lead you to wisdom. I’m not sure the record ever
gets there, but the music is so beautiful, you’re left feeling comfortable just
being on the journey.
The album
isn’t afraid of social or political commentary either. “Wildfire” tells the story of American Revolutionary War hero Joseph
Warren, but takes the lesson down through the ages to a modern America still
straining to attain the unity its early patriots dreamed of:
“I was born a southern son
In a small southern town where the
rebels run wild
The beat their chests, and they
swear ‘we’re gonna rise again’
And it should have been
different, it could have been easy
The day that old Warren died,
hate should’ve gone with him
But here we are caught in a wildfire.”
The
album takes the jump and gospel hints of bluegrass and blends them seamlessly
into old school seventies country and even a bit of modern indie. The combination
creates something that feels incredibly old and incredibly new at the same
time. I found myself spending half the time looking up the songs because I was
sure they were old standards, and the other half marveling at how they’d refreshed
one of America’s oldest musical forms in a way that was both respectful and
daring.
Having
only recently handed out a five star review, I was determined to find something
wrong with “Blindfaller,” but there just aren’t a lot of weak spots to find on
this record. Instead, song after song filled my soul with a rich tone and the
feeling that amid all the false starts and rough trails we walk down, life has
a beauty in everyday moments that we can’t let slip by unnoticed.
Best
tracks: All
tracks
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