It pretty much goes without saying that a vocalist can make or break a band. The wrong set of pipes can ruin a sound; the right one can elevate the emotion of the music beyond any meaning in the lyrics. It also goes without saying that there are plenty of people out there who can't really sing in what we'd think of as a traditional sense. Carrying a tune seems simple enough, but it's remarkable to consider just how many voices out there aren't built for it.
Bevel is the solo project of Drunk's Via Nuon, and let's just say that he's one of those millions of people who wasn't endowed with a naturally melodic larynx. Part of the problem seems to be in his delivery-- he doesn't project at all, and notes can even get lost as he trails off. On the other side of the coin, though, he's a fantastic guitarist, and he can be mesmerizing when he wields his acoustic.
And so it follows that, somehow, Nuon's lackluster vocal performance doesn't really get in the way that much on his debut release as Bevel. He's composed 13 different paths down the folkways of America, and the haunted nature of the music usually allows his sometimes downright antimelodic delivery to settle in and get the job done, however awkwardly. It certainly helps that he's joined by fifteen high caliber musicians, from members of Souled American, Lambchop, and Dirty Three to Chicago session players like Fred Lonberg-Holm, Jessica Billey, Jason Adiesewicz, and Michael Krassner, who've played on records ranging from Pinetop Seven to Edith Frost to Wilco.
Yet even with all that talent, there's nothing flashy about Where Leaves Block the Sun. Instead, it prefers to stay on the periphery, decorating your atmosphere in much the same way that a real bevel might lend character to a piece of wooden furniture. It opens with a gorgeous acoustic guitar instrumental called "Exitrance," setting up the orange and brown autumnal theme of the music with its thoughtful melody and warm fingerpicking.
"Generosity" is the first song to feature Nuon's voice as he tackles an oddly singsong melody as best he can over a textured background of vibes and guitar. 'Textural' is the operative descriptor from here on out, as virtually every song explores some variation on a basic acoustic musical texture. By and large, the days get a little shorter toward the middle of the album, as the darkest textures are explored there. Icy pianos spread like frost around warmly bowed violins, and Steven Dorocke's steel guitar occasionally rises in the background like steam rising off a mug of cocoa.
While his singing may not be amazing, Nuon does manage some fine lyrical moments, such as the line, "Every engineer hates every other engineer's work," from the middle of the wasted "Liquid Burns." "Siberian Sunrise" lives up to its title, with sprightly little guitar melodies trickling over a frozen, droning tundra like the first rays stretching across a frigid wasteland. And the instrumental "Theme for Harold" may as well be the Siberian Sunset, as everything is plunged back into darkness and bitter cold.
Perhaps the most unpretentiously beautiful moment on the album, though, is "Oklahoma," a brief, 1\xBD-minute interlude featuring nothing but Michael Krassner's starkly recorded piano set alongside what sounds like a field recording of a supermarket parking lot. It's a truly transcendent moment that perfectly sets up the final track, "Prologue of the Recalcitrance." Here, Nuon offers a fractured verse over an improvised backing before simply turning the musicians loose, ending the album on a chaotic yet consonant note.
Where Leaves Block the Sun is an ephemeral pleasure, much like walking beneath the changing foliage of fall and feeling those first few stiff, cold breezes of the year. Bevel never strive to drive anything home, instead offering it to you and letting you decide what you want to take with you. And while that's appealing in its own way, this is certainly not an album to throw on just any old time. On certain occasions, however, it will work nicely at night. Especially when the leaves are turning.
