During one particularly magnanimous period recently, I lugged my tattered, half-burnt stereo to a rare books room every day for a couple weeks so a friend could listen to Kenneth Patchen read his poetry on hissy Folkways LPs. Though a total pain in the ass, the effort seemed in keeping with the rambling spirit of the wordsmith: Patchen published more than 36 books between 1936 and 1972, and his style, experiments and collaborations with jazz musicians inspired what folks eventually started pigeonholing as the Beat Generation. Also a painter, he often created luminous impressions of his poetical works on canvas. These ornate broadsides-- crammed with cursive lettering, brightly colored flowers, bird-torn wind and smiling bird people-- resembled fliers for psych-rock concerts held in the trees.
The Skygreen Leopards took their bandname and the title of their third album from Patchen's writings. The liner notes of One Thousand Bird Ceremony offers a blessing to the artist, and judging from the feathered collages decorating the album, the band is nearly as fond of anthropomorphic fowl as he was. Formed in 2001, The Skygreen Leopards are Glenn Donaldson and Donovan Quinn. My vote for man of the year 2003, Donaldson founded the Jewelled Antler label/collective with Loren Chasse and plays in quite a few amazing groups including The Blithe Sons, Thuja, The Franciscan Hobbies, and The Birdtree. Quinn, another regular Jewelled Antler contributor, is the son of Country Weather bassist and vocalist Dave Carter and records as Verdure. This is the duo's third album, and their first widely distributed release after two limited-edition CD-R's.
Like much of Glenn Donaldson's other work, One Thousand Bird Ceremony starts off with ambient forestal noises, chirps, the acoustic peregrinations of other animals, and properly spare bells. While certainly making use of Jewelled Antler tenants such as recording without predetermined lyrics or chord changes, instead of droning psychedelia, The Skygreen Leopards create blissful pop songs interwoven with ambient hiss and naturally occurring sounds. At times comparable to The Birdtree, the work's even tighter here, bringing to mind tiny nuggets of Syd Barrett and the Incredible String Band. Or a pack of silvan spirits on a Beatles kick. Unlike the usual one-track Jewelled Antler outing, One Thousand Bird Ceremony was recorded on an on 1/4" tape to an 8-track; accordingly, the works house additional layers of 12-string guitars, banjo, bouzouki, jaw harp, mandolin, dulcimer, organ, and echoplex. It's like listening to a muted late-period Lilys (or Kinks) recording in the bird house at the local zoo. Yes, rural folk for the hook-obsessed pop fan.
In an album full of highlights and very few lows, the best moments are incredibly beautiful. "Where Do Songs Come From" answers its stated question with the lilting sound of a breathless penny whistle disappearing below a horizon. Turning jaw harp into a lovely percussive accompaniment, "Let Me Grow in Your Meadow" rings with Monkees lamentations and pastoral crab-grass drifts. Equally idyllic, "Walk with the Golden Cross" hits echoing falsettos that rise and fall above a field of tinny percussion, downcast arpeggios and tambourine. The lengthiest track, "A Breeze of Pine Blows Through Me", follows a sleepy firefly in a race amid the browning needles of a sapless tree.
The final track, "Summer Pharmacy" (linked thematically to the opener, "Summer Alchemy") points towards Donaldson and Quinn's ability to find the benefits of song in the most unlikely places, including the shifts between seasons, within blades of grass, in the honeyed clouds, on the dark side of a leaf changing color, beneath an icy rock. As the concept of "New Weird America" broadens to encompass more than it likely should, The Skygreen Leopards drift languidly in and out of song, quiet locating the best sun spots in a way that seems both tossed off and perfectly formed. Actually, Patchen's "Pastoral" describes it dead-on: "The Dove walks with sticky feet/ Upon the green crowns of the almond tree/ Its feathers smeared over with warmth/ Like honey/ That dips lazily down into the shadow..." Now translate that into joyful song.
