JENNY
GILLESPIE
Kindred
I
wish I could say something like, “Here comes a musician who,
straight out of the box, presents us with a combination of
shoegaze and progrock to soothe our savage breast,” but the
truth is that Kindred
was
unboxed a good year or so ago and that Jenny
Gillespie is
at this very moment working on a followup album which, I am sure,
will be as good or better. While I can't be sure of that, I am
sure that she has the potential and sometimes that's a hope on
which I do not mind hanging my hat. Tell you what. I'll give 5 to
1 odds.
I almost missed her. I find my music through a variety of ways which usually take a modicum of time and effort. In her case, I found her on CDBaby's site among the new releases. A couple of samples of her songs and I was on my merry way to her website where I listened to fully streamed tracks--- or maybe it was her MySpace page. Then I got busy. Unknowingly, I buried the list of artists I had found during my treasure hunts and only uncovered it a couple of months ago at which time I retraced my steps. Another listen and I was sending an email to Gillespie through the ether and pried some files from her not reluctant fingers. To some musicians, being heard is everything.
Oh, what I heard. When I was young, I would have killed to have met someone who wrote and played the kind of music she makes: ethereal, in places hauntingly beautiful, melodic, harmonious. You hearing it? Now salt and pepper it with musical nuances of the progrock music of the seventies--- not the hard and dark music, but the lighter and more melodic music. The Moody Blues. The softer and poetic side of early Van der Graaf Generator (thank the musical gods for David Jackson's spacey sax solos). Fast forward to Kate Bush when she wasn't on her theatrical jags. And lightly salt and pepper it. She sounds like none of those, but in places, if you have listened closely to her, you notice wisps. A light fragrance. Enough to maybe crack open the door to Gillespie's music.
The titles of the songs alone should tell you this is something beyond the pale. Golden Central. Secret Passageway. Blue Morpho. Merged Furs. Hearts For Eyes. They probably could be any folkie's song titles, but when you think shoegaze and prog, they fit even better.
The songs? My favorite at the moment is In the Garden, which starts out a light toy-instrument-like pop song and builds into a full blown medium tempo wind gust. And she doesn't do it with volume. She does it by layering. What sounds a bit sparse at the beginning is a fully staged band at the end. I would live to see her perform this live with full band. Rock anthem. Lighters lit. You know what I mean.
And Hearts For Eyes. It is an electronic symphony for the ears. Echoes, reverbs, chambers and tail of newt. A carpet of floating vocal harmonies over a musicscape of National Geographic dimensions. Downright magnificent.
I am a guitar freak and always have been. I live for electric. I want to feel the strings bent and the speakers distorted. I wanted to hear the shrieking solos with the sleeve noise (the sound of fingers moving up and down the strings to the next chord). I must have listened to this a good ten times before I realized that there is very little guitar. It is based upon a foundation of electronic tones (extremely well done) and keyboards. That is the cake. The rest is frosting and as beautiful as it is (and it is), it relies on the cake. I congratulate Ms. Gillespie. You have to have something very special for me to almost forget the guitar.
I don't really need more Jenny Gillespie at this moment. I am happy engorging myself on Kindred, at present. At the same time, I feel a bit of anxiety. I am curious as to which direction she will take on the new project. And I know that in the not too distant future, I will want to hear that voice in another setting. I don't think I mentioned that voice. I was remiss. It is outstanding.
Releases like Kindred make writing about music almost exciting--- well, as exciting as it can be to sit at a computer for hours on end trying to describe things which are practically indescribable. It can be tedium. It can be a drag. But when an album like this comes along I forget about the sore butt and stiff legs. The music of Jenny Gillespie is a drug for my soul.
Frank O. Gutch Jr.
Supporting the Indies Since 1969
