Tobin Sprout is probably best known as part of Guided By Voices, the oh-so prolific Dayton, Ohio band. The fact that he ever found time for a solo career is testament to his desire to release something that stood apart from GBV.
Although no longer a part of that band, it has been four years since the last album The Universe And Me graced the shelves. Empty Horses contains some mournful piano balladry and strumbling, dusty acoustic Americana that brings to mind a more succinct mix of Nikki Sudden and Johnny Cash. To be honest, it is mainly the opening track that brought to mind Nikki; something about the warmth and the looseness of the voice, plus he has a name that sounds as if he should be in Swell Maps.
There are some lovely harmonies accompanying his voice on the brief opener “Wings Prelude” and there is something heart-tugging about the line “Calling all the horses that died for you” that also sets the tone for the album. The harmonies help to warm up the lonely highway along which Tobin is ambling and the addition of the more vibrant electric guitar on “Breaking Down” helps to do so further . The album does move at a sedate pace, and although the songs are succinct, there is plenty of space through which the instrumentation can move. The bright shimmy of a tambourine helps the melancholy “On Golden rivers” to shine a little more, while “The Man I Used To Know” is more strident, with its reverbed electric and beautifully spare solo that cuts through the dusty air. It feels like a sad farewell to somebody once loved. Tobin does have a lovely way with a phrase; I was particularly taken by “When you see the certain way she folds her hands” from “Every Sweet Soul”, but there can also be a a grabbing of the classic country imagery of holy ghosts and bibles, as on the Cash-like rumble of “Empty Horses”. There is a quaver to his voice though, which highlights a certain tenderness flowing through some of the tracks and that just really helps to warm to them. “All In My Sleep” opens with a burst of fuzz guitar that blows out the cobwebs, but final track “No Shame” is another mournful piano ballad that sits so well with his cracked and slightly unruly voice. There is something about those minor chords that we picture him head bowed at the keyboard, full of contemplation.But then it is all over and the half hour seems to have flashed past in a burst of warm, thoughtful vignettes that are rather affecting. Empty Horses is a lovely album and well recommended.
-Mr Olivetti-
