Can music get any gentler than this? Spectacular of Passages isn't "soft" in the sense of "soft rock" or "the quiet is the new loud"; carving her own niche of idyllic bedroom psychedelia, Samara Lubelski's newest takes pop orchestrations to levels of insulation previously unimagined-- it's as though she recorded her murmured symphony inside a down pillow and comforter.
Unlike de rigueur solo folkies, Lubelski isn't afraid to surround herself with an airy "teenage symphony to god" army. According to the liner notes, there are 15 participants here, not including the multi-instrumental, knob-turning Lubelski. Donning headphones, it's fascinating to try charting the ingenious ways she tucks and repositions the players into such a precise sound. The album was recorded between Germany and Brooklyn with a cast that includes some of her ex-Tower Recordings chums: P.G. Six on baroque flute and 12-string and Tim Barnes on drums/percussion. Among the other guests are Matt Heyner of No Neck Blues Band on upright bass and Espers' cellist Helena Espvall. Of course, Lubelski comes armed with everything from guitar and violin to poppi shakers, mellotron, and her lovely voice.
For those who don't recognize Samara's name-- well, shame on you. Actually, no, she's such an understated, ethereal figure (think 4AD taken down a notch) that her relative anonymity makes sense. Still, she's been doing great things for a long time, whether fronting the trio Hall of Fame, playing internationally with Metabolismus, or working as an engineer at Brooklyn's Rare Book Room where she recorded the Fiery Furnaces and Magik Markers, among others. Her history with Tower Recordings was mentioned above, and she's also collaborated with everyone from Tara Jane O'Neil and White Magic to Jackie-O Motherfucker and Tony Conrad.
Lubelski's 2004 solo album, The Fleeting Skies, was a favorite of mine when it was released. It's unfortunate to report that besides Spectacular of Passage's opener, "Lick 'n Leap", its neighbor "Sister Silver", and "Broken Links", this collection doesn't provide the same Technicolor chills and crushed velvet hooks as its predecessor.
Judging from its luster, The Fleeting Skies aligned itself more with sunrises, whereas Spectacular evokes a powdered duskiness. There's plenty of beauty, but last time around the hooks were sharper, more defined. There's less temptation to sing along now; but then, perhaps these are mumbled good nights. (Images are often kinda blurred when you turn out the lights.) The gorgeous "Orion"'s syrupy whispers could very well be an eventide offering to the constellation that gave it a name-- but eventually Mr. Sandman hits you upside the head with his goods.
Don't misunderstand sleepiness as boredom. Spectacular of Passages can be a rich experience, and there are a number of strong moments. The album's so tight it has a tendency to close in on itself, but when you do duck your head inside there are plenty of, well, spectacular passages. Let me equivocate a bit more: I'd be curious to see what'd happen if Lubelski's magisterial sonic precision was taken for a more arresting ride-- more cracked, splintered, or rusted-- because what we have now is a beautiful, precious music box or curio that you won't be compelled to open that often.
