Arbouretum
Song of the Pearl
(Thrill Jockey, 2009)

The follow-up to Arbouretum’s 2007 doom-folk classic, Rites of Uncovering, carries with it high expectation and anticipation for me—after all, Rites of Uncovering was my #2 record of that year. That can be such a dangerous mix, for records or for anything in life it would seem, where the creeping feeling of a letdown weighs heavily on the mind, a surefire path towards a self-fulfilling prophecy.

Maybe I’m just a sucker for framing myself into these situations, but my immediate reaction upon taking a first spin of Song of the Pearl was this: Where Rites of Uncovering rolled back and forth like expansive oceanic fog, somehow still sprightly and contained, yet also detailing an abidingly dark storyline of almost Middle-earth proportions—all things I specifically loved the band for—this new record is heavier, more immediate, less sprawling… almost decidedly myopic. Different. But is this a likeable difference?

The thing is, after playing this album over and over again, plenty of prevailing doom, billowy wandering, and heavy folk-rock passages are to be found; it’s just that things move along a little faster. Gone (for now at least) are the days of the 11-minute opus, providing the listener with more urgent lyrical content to chew on instead—the immediacy almost functioning as a reflection of the times, a result of such palpable widespread despair in a world that seems to be going to hell in a handbasket. Time is of the essence. And the lyrics don’t disappoint with gems like this one from the escapist track “Another Hiding Place”: “I slid softly / Into warmth and amnesia / Derelict and drunken / Softly overtaken.” These abound, not only in this particular song, but on the rest of Song of the Pearl as well.

Song of the Pearl latches on to these ears like Rites of Uncovering did in that there’s still ingenious ebb and flow to the music that’s central to some critical ongoing conversation listeners assume the band’s having with them, as if it holds another key to unlock the journey. In fact, Arbouretum’s songs, let alone albums, can best be summed up by knowing how it feels to be granted access to another level in Zelda. “Down by the Fall Line”, in all its hypnotic, psychedelic glory, slows the pace, bringing layers of sullen, yearning mood swirling into the mix where guitars both tinker and wail. Finding those things interplaying with lyrics like “The leaves are waving the sun down / They’re whispering it won’t be long” is to travel directly into the heart of Arbouretum’s saga, where meaningful prose exudes from everyday things we generally take for granted.

The longest song on Song of the Pearl might be the best: “Infinite Corridors” surpasses the six-minute mark and is much heavier than the five tracks that come before it, made complete with well-handled starts/stops approximating one running from door to door, trying and failing to find a way out, as if stuck inside some long twisted hallway of the mind. After a creamy middle of guitar squalls and otherwise sedated jamming, the music drops out only for the crushing start/stop tactic to return, not alone, but with a layer of cascading, nightmarish guitar inflections, where thereafter the band proceeds to shred the song apart. And how! Likewise, “The Midnight Cry” keeps up the sprint towards something… and perhaps there’s hope after all: “He will come to take us to the throne… One more day and one more night / Then he’s gonna come in on the clouds / And every head will bow / Then with power and great glory.” The album ends with a lullaby of longing—“Tomorrow Is a Long Time”, a Bob Dylan cover—but you’d almost never know it, for it’s relatively skewed but also so apropos to this album’s theme (not to mention being directly correlated to the song that had just come before it), that it fits right in as one of Arbouretum’s own. “There’s beauty in the silver, singin’ river / There’s beauty in the sunrise of the sky / But none of these and nothing else can touch the beauty / That I remember in my true love’s eyes.” Le sigh.

Song of a Pearl could be viewed by some (I just saw Pitchfork’s harsh 5.8) as the band not giving it their all, while possibly indicating that their best may be yet to come. Which may, in fact, be true. But I see this record as part of an ongoing palaver Arbouretum is having with their audience. And, like all great conversations, it’s not about the destination but the trip.

Listen: Various Tracks [at myspace.com]

Tags: Arbouretum, Song of the Pearl, Thrill Jockey

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