Sarah Louise is a guitar player from North Carolina who, over the course of a short but busy career, is doing her best to make you believe that she is using anything but a guitar to fabricate these vibrant, nature-influenced modern folk pieces.
I say folk, but really they exist outside of genre, borrowing little bits here and there, but genuinely sounding more like field recording manipulated into song. Coming from an Appalachian tradition, Sarah Louise’s basic instrument is the acoustic guitar, but her bravery and willingness to reinvent in the studio is quite impressive. Having produced the album herself, her second for Thrill Jockey in as many years, she has been free to experiment without limitations, and it really does show in the array of sounds and textures that appear across the eight tracks.Things clang and wail and shimmer on opener “Daybreak”, and the odd patter of birdsong certainly helps the track to live up to its title. Surprisingly, we are also given an opportunity to sample Sarah’s voice, which is a lovely, rich and folky instrument. There is a purity in it that sits perfectly with the chirruping and chiming guitar effects. These effects are further offset against a repetitive, almost clucking backdrop, that when it is all heard together really does feel as though you are sticking your head out of a rural window first thing in the morning and hearing the dawn chorus. I can’t imagine the time that must have been taken to generate all these unique sounds, but the whole effect is well worth while.
The manic switchback feel of “R Mountain” evokes a sea of electric eels winding around your wader-clad legs as you stand mesmerised in the shallows by the dashing silver shapes, and the madcap eastern tomfoolery of “Ancient Intelligence” gives way to a more considered but also more random pattern of note selection. It is here that you first have the chance to experience her finger work, and it times it hops like a desert lizard trying to avoid the red hot sand. The moods change at will and “Rime” is pregnant with portent. The bowed strings provide a fine drone with dark undertones. It feels as though we are hovering at night over unlit land, wavering precariously as we wait for shapes to appear on the ground. The addition of a dulcimer-like effect that I assume is hammered guitar strings heralds the advance of daylight, gradually illuminating the floor below until the intensity dazzles and everything below falls into focus. Sarah’s playing is really inventive, but it does feel as though she is doing this as some sort of academic exercise.It feels natural and necessary — these experiments are some sort of extension of her personality, and listening to the whole album you feel that she would be a fascinating character to meet. There are clearly signposts here and there but really, this is going off at tangents from what we might recognise as solo guitar music. The wayward structure of “Swarming At The Threshold” follows no obvious pattern but flows perfectly, following its very own path that is always eager and bright, and it is that purity of soul and willingness to stretch that make sit all so lovely.
Sarah Louise understands the dynamic of the guitar to an extraordinary extent and has absorbed its influence on many different styles. Her love of the instrument and the desire to experiment has produced something unique, but with a vibrancy that glows. It is a treat for anybody that knows there is more to a guitar than strum and solo. Here, there is a whole world.
-Mr Olivetti-
