Most music makers are storytellers, to some degree, weavers of tales, imparters of wisdom, purveyors of wit…but artists like Chris Murphy are the story. I say this because, although his music is full of myriad people and fantastic places, tales both tall and relatable, and music drawn from across countries and cultures, geographies and genres… little in his music even matches the story of the man himself.
A genuine troubadour, a world traveler, a magpie-like collector of sounds, a consummate entertainer and raconteur, as at home firing bluegrass grooves as he is evoking keening celtica, as familiar with buoyant dance-along, foot-stomping tunes as drifting ambient soundscapes, he has mastered all sounds and styles, and has looped and jammed and composed and entertained his way around the world for many decades. His is the story, and the story is him.
His latest chapter is both the logical next step and a dream come true, as his latest album, Songs From The Trees, sees him surround himself with not only his regular gigging partner Barney Kenny, and engineer and multi-instrumentalist Josiah J Manning, but none other than Seth Lakeman on production and a wide array of instruments. A fine sonic gang if ever there was one.
The title track leads us in; its drifting intro, reminiscent of his instrumental project Seven Crows, then gives way to his half-spoken/half-sung vocals, with growing momentum driving things along as he flees across the desert with only the primal landscape and the music it evokes for company.
“Do You Ever Wonder?” lilts along in folky style, reflecting on where a relationship might have gone had things been done differently, the violin break full of sadness and regret for the path not taken. “Bitter Tea” is an example of how Murphy weaves together sophisticated, silken music without overwhelming the song, with deft sonic designs serving as motifs in a spacious soundscape.
“300 Days At Sea” heads into the almost shanty-esque territory that such a gathering always suggested, a place that is a regular theme for Seth Lakeman, but let’s not forget Barney Kenny’s own penchant for songs of history and heritage. The album ends with “When She’s Around,” a simple dedication of love and support, full of swooning violins, tumbling banjo, and banks of gorgeous harmonies.
And let’s not forget the title, a glimpse of the primal nature of music, the implication that it is the world around us from which we draw such sounds. Of course, creativity is a process of hard work, but it reminds us that inspiration and the subconscious sparks that ignite our imagination might be something less of ourselves and more about the world through which we move. Just a thought.
Whatever you believe, there is, I feel, a sense of destiny to Songs From The Trees, a feeling that these people would one day find themselves in the same room, and the music they have made here is the perfect next chapter in the musical tale, another vivid patch on the sumptuous sonic quilt of the Chris Murphy story.
