Six Organs Of Admittance – Asleep On The Floodplain (Drag City)
In the thirteen years since the first Six Organs Of Admittance album, Ben Chasny has used the subtle shifts between each album to establish a set of parameters that define his solo project’s aesthetics. Each is based on intricate, finger-picked acoustic passages in the vein of Peter Walker or John Fahey, but beyond that, Chasny adorns each release with its own distinctive trappings and signifiers–droning ambient atmospheres on some, more conventional song structures on the next; singular focus on one, thematic eclecticism on another. The border formed by these elements may be ever-expanding and of indeterminate form, but Chasny’s most recent release seems to fall almost exactly in the middle of his self-paved road, eschewing outliers but creating an album that doesn’t suffer as a result.
Six Organs Of Admittance – Asleep On The Floodplain (Drag City)
In the thirteen years since the first Six Organs Of Admittance album, Ben Chasny has used the subtle shifts between each album to establish a set of parameters that define his solo project’s aesthetics. Each is based on intricate, finger-picked acoustic passages in the vein of Peter Walker or John Fahey, but beyond that, Chasny adorns each release with its own distinctive trappings and signifiers–droning ambient atmospheres on some, more conventional song structures on the next; singular focus on one, thematic eclecticism on another. The border formed by these elements may be ever-expanding and of indeterminate form, but Chasny’s most recent release seems to fall almost exactly in the middle of his self-paved road, eschewing outliers but creating an album that doesn’t suffer as a result.
It may seem uncharitable to think of Asleep On The Floodplain as a sort of comfort zone album, an excursion into well-traveled territory, but that’s not too far from the mark. But there is a diversity to the material that offers the listener an impression of Chasny selecting motifs from the whole of his career–a sampler of sorts, one that doesn’t actually draw from any of the original source material. Immediately noticeable is that half the songs are instrumental, a ratio even a noted arranger and instrumentalist like Chasny tends to shy away from. But even the songs without vocals don’t dwell on a single approach; some, like the minute-long “Poppies,” are brief exercises in fidgety bursts of guitar flash not unlike some of the material on RTZ, his 2009 collection of demos and home recordings. These pieces come off as pleasant but somewhat disposable compared with the quality of the other material–the type of piece many musicians would use to warm up before a performance but would hesitate to actually bring to the stage. But others, like “Brilliant Blue Sea Between Us” or “A New Name On An Old Cement Bride,” dwell in a more tranquil space, where sparse guitar strumming is left to drift on waves of harmonium drones, unencumbered by the strictures of meter.
The songs with vocals tend to stick with the approach Chasny has employed on more recent albums like Shelter From The Ash and The Sun Awakens–fleet-fingered minor-key acoustic guitars underpinning vocals which rarely move past a hushed murmur. It’s a contrapuntal device that really characterizes much of Chasny’s stylistic strong points–if he attempted to sing with the same deft intricacy with which he approaches his guitar playing, the whole endeavor would turn into a self-indulgent mess. Instead, he uses his relatively limited vocal range to both bolster the central melodic elements of the songs and to convey a sense of intimacy–he often sounds like he’s in the same room as the listener. The harmonium pops up on these songs occasionally as well, most notably in the twelve-plus minute “S/Word and Leviathan.” This piece of droning guitar work gradually builds into a layered crescendo of bleary electric guitar washes and eerie moaning voices, coming off not unlike a more compact version of “River Of Transfiguration,” his collaboration with psych-drone duo Om.
If it seems like most of the points of reference for Six Organs Of Admittance albums are the band’s previous releases, it’s really to the band’s credit. Ben Chasny’s not without his precursors, but he has spent enough time and effort melding his influences into something so distinct, so recognizable as his own, that relying too heavily on comparisons outside his body of work falls short of capturing what makes it memorable in the first place. Experimental yet inviting, familiar yet mysterious, engaging yet ethereal, Asleep On The Floodplain is one more in a long series of arguments for Ben Chasny as a consummate artist, one capable of constant reinvention without gimmickry or reliance on straying from a singular creative vision.
