SEVEN YEARS OF SEVERED LIMBS

I really don't even remember where I got this CD, although I suspect it was during the late 2000's when I was chasing down derivatives of the drone/neo-folk band Espers. You'd think that the cartoonish green cover and bright pink CD label would be more memorable, but whatever.

Cellist Margaret (Margie) Wienk played with Espers early on and appears to be the driving force of this band as well. The music is in the whole Espers / the Iditarod / In Gowan Ring / Mountain Home mold, meaning the sound is steeped in echoes of Vashti Bunyan-like wispy vocals, meandering rhythms, drone strings and an overall introspective, almost shoe- gazing mood. I don't mean that in a bad way, it's just an accurate description.

This first album from the band features Wienk and guitarist/violinist/lap steel player Mike Corcoran, who also provides the male half of the vocals, and guests include accordionist Alec K. Redfearn (the Eyesores, Beat Circus, Amoebic Ensemble) and Joel Thibodeau (Death Vessel) on the few tracks that include drums. And like I said, this is neo-folk at its finest with Wienk's dainty vocals, spots of drone (although nowhere near what you would hear with Espers or on any other Greg Weeks album), pretty much all acoustic and no particular emphasis on melody, recognizable song structure or any apparent interest in popular music convention. Which suits me okay.

This sort of music is kind of hard to write about, and track-by-track descriptions are neither necessary nor useful. The point is really to get into the mood and to enjoy the unusual and something throwback arrangements, as well as to appreciate the juxtapositions created when combining the likes of cello and accordion, usually with not much of a rhythm section beyond some ad-hoc percussion and spastic upright bass crammed in here and there by Wienk. The CD's liner notes don't include any lyrics and I'm not inclined to try and decipher them so the meaning of many of the songs is pretty much left up to interpretation. I could tell you there are songs about being awed by full moons ("She Who Was So Precious to You"), wolves tracking illegal aliens sneaking across the border ("Wolf I"), southern California sliding into the ocean ("Kingdom"), tradition ("Boxing Day"), and even vulnerability ("Mover Ghost / Mark the Days off on your Wall"). But I would only be guessing because that's what the abstract lyrics seems to be about to me. Only Wienk and her hardcore fans know for sure I suppose.

The one complaint I have with this record, as I do with many of the band's contemporaries such as the Iditarod, Natural Snow Buildings, and even In Gowan Ring to a certain extent, is that there isn't a whole lot of variety in their music. The slightly mystical, new-age musical impresario with a pile of eclectic instruments and a yearning to wax poetic is always nice in moderation, but after an hour of listening to this one I find myself reaching for something with a little kick to it to get my heart racing and to fend of sleep. Great music, but I would find it much more appealing if the band were to try a little more experimentation with their sound to see where they can take it. I haven't listened to much of their later material yet, but let's hope they've done just that. I'm going to give this one three stars only because it is the band's debut and they're entitled to establish a sound before one can expect them to start exploring ways to stretch it. But they'd better do that with the next couple of things they crank out or they risk becoming yet another in a long list of neo-folk bands whose relevance is challenged by their apparent lack of much to say.

peace