THE LAST TREE

Larkin Grimm discovers something resembling a recognizable sense of rhythm with the opening title track from ‘The Last Tree’, her second studio release; at the same time, she manages to retain plenty of the pagan-like and unpredictable characteristics that make her music such a (worthwhile) challenge to experience. This is another largely solo effort, with Grimm laying down the tracks for about a dozen different instruments including dulcimer, autoharp, bass, flute and various whistles and bells in addition to her acoustic guitar. Kelly Cook (Moev) also strums a bit and adds some flute as well, and Spaztet guitarist George Langford rounds out the instrumentation.

Grimm seems to have found just a little bit of restraint on this record, shifting from the chaotic and often haphazard experimentation that characterized her first album, to something that is much more approachable yet still on the fringes of what passes for art-tinged folk music. Her Appalachian background is more pronounced here, with several tracks (“I Killed Someone, Part 2”, “Link in your Chain”, “Rocky Top”) having a distinct hillbilly-cum-bluegrass feel to them despite her otherwordly vocals and occasional shrieks. Imagine Laurie Anderson teaming with Alison Krauss in a moonshine- oiled jamfest and you’ll have a sense of what large portions of this album sound like.

Elsewhere Grimm comes off as almost normal, blending acoustic guitar and plaintive chanting vocals with eclectic percussion and lots of whistling, most notably on “No Moonlight”, “The Most Excruciating Vibe” and the closing number “The Waterfall”.

Her singer-songwriter persona comes out strong on the lengthy (ten-minute plus) “Little Weeper”, a rambling vocally-intense number with plenty of ranging guitar work that is otherwise almost devoid of sound effects or percussion. This is one of the more staid compositions I’ve ever heard from her, and one I can picture her plucking out on a barstool in front of weak backlighting in a coffeehouse somewhere along the Eastern seaboard. A pleasant number that would almost make one think she has spun a few Pentangle albums somewhere in her colorful past.

This is a decent album, worth listening to mostly because it shows some definite progression in Larkin’s musical sensibilities and a growing sense of comfort in front of the microphone as well as with composition. This fits quite well stylistically between her odd debut “Harpoon” and her most recent offering “Parplar”, in which she makes quantam leaps toward solidifying the quality and depth of her music. I’ll go with three stars this time around, and save the true praise for ‘Parplar’. Recommended for wyrd-folk and experimental indie fans.

peace