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Loren Connors, "The Departing of a Dream Vol. II"
Family Vineyard
Prolific blues and avant-garde guitarist Loren Connors follows up 2002's The Departing of a Dream with this, its logical eight-song sequel. The first album was reportedly a "loose" tribute to Miles Davis's He Loved Him Madly,so one must assume that Vol. II is a continuation of a theme.Contemplative guitar accompanies tape loops/manipulations and fieldrecordings to issue a slow, laggard drone of an album. Devoid of titles(I think the intention is to call them by their numerical track order),the songs do indeed meld into one another and create an amalgamatedsound collage rather than an album composed of individual songs.Generally, it happens that about the time I realize there are no propersong titles for an album that I also realize that the album in questionis not going to be a collection of autonomous tracks. "1" and "7,"however, are distinct for their length: they are both over ten minuteslong, whereas every other song clocks in at under two minutes (except"8;" it breaks the mold by enduring for two and a half minutes). Upuntil "8," the sound is like that of the barest, sparest Flying SaucerAttack song. It drones and resonates until your head envisions itselfin a cave with walls of smooth black onyx along which the sound creepsand reverberates into cavities and over stalactites. The music dronesin and out in accordance with the topography of the cave and seeminglyby no other design. But then along comes "8" and suddenly the dark caveof black onyx is shattered like the most brittle Formica, floodinglight and distance into the once encapsulating cave. Honestly, "8" islike an archangel descending from a rainbow onto the firmament. Thetempo picks up, melody creeps uninvited into the album, and ratherquickly you forget about the cave and are ready to wander about,unfettered in the sunlight.
Prolific blues and avant-garde guitarist Loren Connors follows up 2002's The Departing of a Dream with this, its logical eight-song sequel. The first album was reportedly a "loose" tribute to Miles Davis's He Loved Him Madly,so one must assume that Vol. II is a continuation of a theme.Contemplative guitar accompanies tape loops/manipulations and fieldrecordings to issue a slow, laggard drone of an album. Devoid of titles(I think the intention is to call them by their numerical track order),the songs do indeed meld into one another and create an amalgamatedsound collage rather than an album composed of individual songs.Generally, it happens that about the time I realize there are no propersong titles for an album that I also realize that the album in questionis not going to be a collection of autonomous tracks. "1" and "7,"however, are distinct for their length: they are both over ten minuteslong, whereas every other song clocks in at under two minutes (except"8;" it breaks the mold by enduring for two and a half minutes). Upuntil "8," the sound is like that of the barest, sparest Flying SaucerAttack song. It drones and resonates until your head envisions itselfin a cave with walls of smooth black onyx along which the sound creepsand reverberates into cavities and over stalactites. The music dronesin and out in accordance with the topography of the cave and seeminglyby no other design. But then along comes "8" and suddenly the dark caveof black onyx is shattered like the most brittle Formica, floodinglight and distance into the once encapsulating cave. Honestly, "8" islike an archangel descending from a rainbow onto the firmament. Thetempo picks up, melody creeps uninvited into the album, and ratherquickly you forget about the cave and are ready to wander about,unfettered in the sunlight.
