Some may call it bad planing to book a gig that coincided with England’s second World Cup match, and there’s no question attendance was down as a result of the clash. But savvy music fans had no doubt that only one of the two events was guaranteed not to disappoint, and of course, they were right.
On a personal level, having witnessed live performances by Swans and Godflesh in the first week of the month, there was no way a conventional rock gig could touch the impact of such sonic force, and so it was a welcome change of tempo and volume. Yes, this was a comparatively quiet gig, which drew an audience who were duly respectful, yet at the same time a relaxed warmth permeated the venue, to which the performers responded in kind.
Touring their debut album as New Bums, released on the way-cool Drag City label, Ben Chasny (Comets On Fire, Six Organs Of Admittance, Rangda) and Donovan Quinn (Skygreen Leopards) stopped off in York to play an intimate set that proved to be pretty special.
Before they spun their mellow musical yarns, Red River Dialect and Wolf Solent warmed things up. Red River Dialect – here represented by main man David Morris – proved to be something of a revelation. It has to be said that Morris’ moustache is something to behold. The fact I soon stopped noticing the moustache is testament to his spellbinding guitar playing. Folk in its roots while incorporating strong classical elements, Morris spins wonderfully dextrous and fluid notes from his fretboard and makes it appear so effortless. Best of all, his technicality doesn’t obstruct some truly beautiful and mesmerising songs.
Former Federal Danny Barton, in his incarnation as Wolf Solent also displays remarkable technical ability at the core of his set of lo-fi tunes. Building layered screeds of treble over backing tracks that jump in and out of the mix quite unexpectedly, without missing a split second’s timing isn’t nearly as easy as he makes it look. The fact a lot of his songs remind me of early pavement is the highest compliment here: for all the crackling racket, bent notes and discord, the set’s packed with bona fide pop gems that possess powerful emotive qualities that are hard to resist.
|
Enter Chasny and Quinn, who sit themselves down and get comfortable. Chasny sits, louche, one leg over the other, electric guitar with no strap on his lap. Quinn’s got David Morris’ acoustic guitar, complete with knackered lead that cuts out the moment he strikes a chord. They take it in their stride. In fact, this seems to characterise the duo’s approach all round: affable, amenable and unpretentious. The music is stripped back, honest, direct. That isn’t to say it lacks intensity: while Quinn strums and sings, Chasny throws out some blistering fretwork, yet somehow does it without ever dominating the sound. There’s a real sincerity to the songs, which possess a timeless quality, and the musicianship is exquisite.
Their wild country sound – which draws on classic narrative styles and at times evokes fireside camaraderie – is refreshing in it straightforwardness. They don’t talk much between songs, but when they do – Quinn commenting briefly on the technical difficulties, Chasny asking for the lights to be dimmed so a not to show the stains on his clothes after three weeks of touring – it builds a natural rapport. The fact they’re so humble and human only adds to the appeal as they work their way through a 50-minute set based on the album ‘Voices in a Rented Room.’
They leave us with an unfinished story about a badger and a sense of having witnessed something special, something real and something intensely personal. New Bums, maybe, but marking a return to old values – and utterly spellbinding.
|
