A Sweeping Curve of Sound

I just came across an article in Zeek (a Jewish journal of thought and culture) from 2006 that discusses the recent revival of psychedelic music and the spiritual dimensions underlying “psychedelia”.

“For today’s psych-folk musicians, spirituality exists in the tension between the great heights of ego-dissolution and the sunken buried claustrophobia of the self — not in the escape from one to the other. Pysch folk, particularly with drone, can have the qualities of an incantation, of a spell, the words learned first as a prayer, but manipulated into something magical. And yet, there is something oddly pragmatic about it. Like any good folk music, it is the music of community, of simple songs that become part of an oral/musical tradition, music that can be passed on. The subversive side of psychedelia — the effect pedals, reverb, looping — means that the community that will sustain it is also one that is of the 21st century. This combination of technology and the echoes of British folk partly gives psych folk a pagan quality. But this peculiar brand of musical mysticism more readily evokes a kind of pantheism: Holiness is hidden in the world; the right tool, maybe the drone of a computerized loop, can be the incantation to set it free. “

Similar sentiments can be found in the “Wyrd Folk” movement, ritualistic and Heathen strains within Neofolk, and from individuals within the psych-folk movement.

“It should be noted that the underlying impetus of The Project Series is to reconnect the world to itself. Valerie is a film partially born from of a complex folk tradition, centuries of provincial culture. As global borders expand and cultural homoginisation ascends, it is important that artists spread the heritage and uniqueness of pre-21st century cultural identity, so that such identities can be discovered, valued, and hopefully preserved by a modern global culture that tends to forget the learned wisdom of its past. “

Part of my attraction to the psych-folk revival stems from this emphasis on pagan, folkloric, and immanent themes that can be found (either explicitly or in the subtext). It’s one of the reasons I include these artists (another is that I like them) within my A Darker Shade of Pagan podcast, and why I’m going to be covering them in my book (currently in process) on the history of modern Pagan and occult music.

I have always been a fan of the more haunted and esoteric side of the new wave of psychedelic folk. More Espers than Devendra Banhart, more British Wyrd Folk than Naturalismo if you catch my drift. So you’ll get a general idea of where I’m coming from when I say I really enjoy the sounds I find on the new split-EP from Novemthree and Arrowwood.

Both projects deal with haunting folk styles, sounds that evoke a sort of timeless atmosphere of poetry and myth. Arrowwood’s contribution weaves an almost ambient haze of melancholic moods, which, lead by vocalist Chelsea Robb (with accompaniment from Pythagumus, Lindsey Hoffman, Josh Lovejoy), transports you to a time when haunting laments were the bread and butter of troubadours everywhere. Meanwhile, Novemthree (spearheaded by Pythagumus) has a sound that evokes memories of the spooky pastoral folk found on The Wicker Man Sountrack (which if you know me, is high praise indeed). Songs that seem ready to turn the wheel of the year and initiate you to deeper mysteries.

The EP is a release on the new Little Somebody Records label, who utilizes unique packaging (two mini-CDs with some marvelous graphic design) to create a treasured collectors item. This is strong and talented work that should perk up the ears of any folk-music enthusiast, even if their tastes don’t run down the same crooked paths mine do. This is music that beckons you towards a dark wood, and you should heed its call.

Links: Novemthree @ MySpace, Arrowwood @ MySpace