The communal, all-inclusive vibe that Sunburned Hand of the Man have always so purposefully cast (as evidenced by the open "Come on over sometime" invitation included with the band's address in the liners of The Trickle Down Theory of Lord Knows What) has succeeded in making them seem as much an extended family as a band. Seldom has this familial bond appeared as literal, however, as with the release of Wedlock, a double album recorded in Alaska at the wedding of group members Paul Labrecque and Valerie Webb. And though the live, impromptu nature of these recordings means they contain some of the group's slackest, most loosely-organized performances yet-- certainly no mean feat-- the album also captures several peaks of the spontaneous joy and inspired mutual discovery that typify the group's best work.
Sunburned Hand of the Man's creative timeline has always been too wavy and discursive to strictly delineate any pure trends or patterns, but the June 2003 date of these recordings lands them somewhere chronologically and sonically between the release of their 2002 album Headdress and that of Trickle Down. At least a dozen group-related musicians-- including such honorary band members as Chris Corsano-- made the voyage to Alaska to celebrate, make music, and (apparently) fly-fish, though it certainly sounds as though none of the other wedding guests were discouraged from active participation.
Wedlock opens with "The Procession", the only track included that was not recorded at the actual wedding itself. Instead, this piece is a loose assemblage of various fragments gathered on the journey to Alaska, and it immediately sets the album's tone of loopy, high-spirited adventure. Woven together by bassist Rob Thomas, the finished track features snatches of acoustic slide guitar, engine hums, police sirens and numerous samples of infectious laughter, vaguely resembling some of John Fahey's late-90s abstract collages.
From there on the album unfolds in virtual real time, as the subsequent six live tracks appear in the same order they were played at what must have been one whale of a ceremony. "The Tent City Police", which sounds like it could be a Headdress outtake, is anchored by Thomas' wickedly funky bassline, glimmering Bitches Brew keys, and distorted, impressionistic vocals that (one can only assume) transmit bountiful good tidings to the happy couple. Later on, percussive, unfettered improvisations like "Sunshine Suit" and the extended title track are increasingly punctuated by rippling, Jerry Garcia-like single-note guitar runs as well as by the ambient peripheral conversations of the ongoing wedding reception.
As the evening progresses, the group gradually transition to more acoustic instrumentation, portable hand percussion, and ever-looser song structures. Cuts like "The Agency" and "Double Invincibility" eventually devolve into a primitive, Godz-like gypsy flutter, and though undoubtedly great fun to experience live, their disheveled charms generally decrease with each successive playback. But, as the album closes with Dave Bird's gracious best man speech, one is reminded that Wedlock's music was constructed as a mere complement to the bonds of friendship and family, and that it is those bonds that provide this album its lasting, understated resonance.
