The mythology surrounding Songs of Green Pheasant (aka Duncan Sumpner) is simply too good to be true. So this Sumpner guy, schoolteacher by day, folk DIY whiz by night, shacks up in the boondocks of England and records an LP in his kitchen using nothing but a four-track. To further thicken this Disney-movie plot, Sumpner originally just sat on the recordings, neglecting to solicit any potentially interested labels. According to legend, eventual label Fat Cat received the demos in 2002, but only recently managed to contact Sumpner due to his mysterious vagabond lifestyle. Fortunately scouring all of England for this self-titled debut proves worth the wait, and Sumpner's nuts and bolts approach further enriches Fat Cat's already impressive folk booty.
As its conditions suggest, Songs sounds distinctly removed from any current trends. If Animal Collective is Fat Cat's frenetic, avant-garde weapon of choice, Songs plays the trusty old revolver role to a T. The lo-fi recording quality harkens back to 60s staples like Simon & Garfunkel or Nick Drake, not to mention Sumpner's haunting pastoral imagery. The dude sings what he knows, and nuts to anyone averse to songs about trees, night, day and love. Opener "I Am Daylights" awakens the senses like a Maxwell House commercial, harnessing an improbably healthy blend of corny guitar plucking and angelic harmonies. Sumpner ain't all about lovey-dovey ephemeral stuff though, and at times he resembles the sharp melodic mettle of Sufjan Stevens. "Nightfall (For Boris P.)" and "Knulp" aren't exactly "Bridge Over Troubled Water", though both feature catchy melodies delicately playing off equally gossamer acoustic riffs.
Unfortunately, the Sufjan similarities end there. The patchwork Songs often succumbs to attrition, lacking enough swirling builds and surprises to sustain its initial birr over 10 tracks. Balking at choruses and complex song structure in general, Sumpner flattens his debut into one sedated, 40-minute campfire outing. True, folkies wear such minimalism like a badge, though Songs begs the question of whether Sumpner's a better songwriter or aesthetic-catcher-- or worse, just a feel-good story attached to a mediocre artist. Regardless, hats off to a folk musician who literally embodies as much lore as his mystical music, and it's exciting to think what this guy could do with a nice eight-track, let alone a full-blown recording studio.
