Shop our Big Takeover store for back issues, t-shirts & CDs
Follow The Big Takeover
Just as you might suggest to anyone with a dislike of driving that they didn’t take a job for a New York taxi company, it might seem not too unreasonable to recommend to anyone who has agoraphobia that the life of a traveling, performing, in-the-limelight musician might not be the best career choice. But Eric Terino isn’t just anyone, and finding himself faced with a new album, Innovations of Grave Perversity, that he was unable to tour in the conventional sense, he set about facing the not inconsiderable task of nothing less than reinventing the live album.
The result is Indelible Sundries, an album made live but not publicly. It was performed as live, first take, in-the-moment contributions and then woven together to create the essence of the live album. This is an album that could not have been made in an earlier age; it is a rare case of technology far from replacing the art of musicianship and creativity but rather enhancing it, opening up new possibilities, and perhaps even helping to set a template for a new type of performance, one that sits somewhere between the live show and the potential offer by the studio.
Although the base of operations was Terino’s New England home studio, the instrumental performances came from The Innovations Band, a group of eleven musicians playing remotely and scattered all across the globe, from Ukraine, England, Italy, America, Russia, Greece, and beyond. Each contribution was performed live in a single take and then pieced together, layer upon layer, to create an “as live” sonic experience that even extended to the crowd response that is the hallmark of any live album.
Anyone familiar with Eric Terino’s work will notice two things about Indelible Sundries: first, it is an overview of his three studio albums. Second, this is a radical reworking of his sound. Gone is the fiercer, punk-infused ethic and rawer energies, and in its place is a more stripped-back, avant-garde folktronica sound. But whether you are an existing fan returning to the fold or new to Terino’s work, it is a remarkable album and would remain so, even if it had taken a more conventional route.
“Churches Rise on My Skeleton” is an early tone-setter for the album; a graceful sweep of chiming, understated piano, and a melancholy viola create the atmospheric sonic platform that is the beautiful backdrop for Eric’s fragile vocals. And atmosphere is what this album is all about. The space and understatement act as additional instruments here that play their part so elegantly, allowing additional sounds to pool and percolate in the spaces between the lyrics and beyond the notes. Such a use of space is something that more musicians should master.
Not everything is such an unadorned sonic space, but even when more sounds are brought to bear, such as in “The Ballad of Misguided Affection,” there is still enough breathing space for everything to express itself perfectly. Here, lilting, picked, and rhythmic acoustic guitars are balanced with strings, which seems to be almost a vocal counterpoint to Terino’s emploring voice as a brass presence rises up through the song.
One of the most telling signs of Terino’s new arrangements is “Mark” (Saint Francis Blues). Whereas the original was propelled by a grunge-laden guitar line, for this rendition of a man wrongly confined to an asylum, the inventive viola of renowned Americana singer/songwriter Jolie Holland guides the song. And not for the first time do we find parallels between the falsetto sound of Jeff Buckley and Terino’s exquisite register.
And if that is a change of tone from the album to the live delivery, “Mountains of Nothing In Love,” the title track of his debut album, marks a change of style, somewhat, for the live set itself. Muted trumpet and ornate bass playing set a sonic scene more akin to an uptown jazz bar, and again, Jolie Holland’s vocals and emotive viola are found woven through Terino’s delicate and vulnerable performance, one of four times he reunites with his previous collaborator.
The album is rounded off with a gorgeous rendition of Sandy Denny’s “No More Sad Refrains” and an arrangement that perfectly bridges the gap between her traditional folk world and his more experimental, genreless one.
Indelible Sundries is a remarkable record. The technical aspects and the obstacles overcome to make it mark it out as something special, perhaps even something considered important in the grand scheme of things. It is an album that stands on the shoulders of giants, both creative and technological ones, to see further into the future. But aside from such backroom victories, musically, this is a fantastic creation, too.
It is an album that does many things besides delivering an eloquent and elegant series of songs. It shows that songs are never truly finished, that there is no such thing as a final form or definitive version, and Terino’s willingness to reimagine them, whether due to logistical considerations or in the name of sonic adventure, shows what a brave soul he is. It is also an album that reminds us that space is an instrument in its own right and that not every sonic canvas has to be filled with every color imaginable.
At the risk of stretching that last analogy past its logical conclusion, we have a delicate sonic watercolor in a world of garish oil paintings.
Website
Instagram
Facebook
Bandcamp
