The past week or so has been quite uneventful to the point of being a lull. When this happens, (and it happens occasionally), I can feel the very soul of my creative outpouring quiver and pass out like a junkie who just climaxed. In fact, that may a more accurate description than I care to accept at this point. Creatvity is addictive, and should you find yourself in the auspcious position to create something that is, indeed, pleasant to yourself (if not someone else) then I invite youto pause right before that highpoint and simply enjoy the moment before you crash like a skier rolling over a slope of moguls. If you do that, I have no doubt that you will become addicted to your own creativity. Anyways, this "lull" has lasted for a couple of weeks thusfar, so when I woke up this morning it was no surprise that I felt pretty uninspired. As my head loosened itself from the over-squashed lump of fluff that is my pillow, I rose to meet the day at the halfway point. (As of late, me and the day have an understanding: I don't mess with it, and it doesn't mess with me.) I reconfimred my agreement with the impending day, and soon got ready for work, keeping in my mind the time table under which I was bound. I soon found myself running late, and stretched across my face was this Charlie Brown-esque grimace at the memories of sleep and the anticipation of having to do work. As I cleared the umbrella of interference from the local radio waves, I turned on my little Sony MP3 player and let it build its library. I then powered up my cheap-o RF transmitter connected to my MP3 player. I then tuned the radio accordingly. As not to loose my understanding of where I was while driving, I quickly allowed my consciousness and eyes dart back up to the road like a horny hummingbird as I waited for the library creation of my toys to take place. I breathed one hard sigh as fruition was realized, and punched the play button. After a short delay, sweet music rang. Ahh, and what's better is it was good music, too.
By this time, you're probably wondering, "What's so special about the music this time?" I have to admit I wasn't really just pumped about driving and listening to music as I do it almost everyday, and my head was filled with things that weren't terribly pleasant. It was pretty hard to get myself motivated. One might expect somebody in my frame of mind to listen to something, perhaps, a little more emo or whiney (if there's even a difference). But, no. Not at all. In fact, I had been listening to Siena Root's Far From The Sun. Now, let me tell you about this album. I guess I decided to write a review about this album when I first heard the album's fourth track, Almost There. I was floored at such a soulful piece of elegance and fond remembrance of an earlier time. The song was like that first time I ever had a beer with my grandfather or how I remember that first cigarette felt, that cherry buzz. I think I felt my fingertips tingle for a moment. Almost There transported me on a cloud of mushroom gas back to the stoner rock of the late 1960's. (Let's face it, even though it wasn't called "stoner rock", that's what it was. Admit it.)
Far From The Sun begins with a cowbell and with a traditional rock riff straight out of 1974, and never looks back. The entire album is game for several instruments from guitar to organ to even sitar and flute. As the songs roll over and over one another, I feel like I got kicked in the balls by Jethro Tull and Jimmy Page as they each told me to wake up and smell the mushroom vapor I rode in on. Siena Root's Far From The Sun is a wonderful medley of aparent influences like Jethro Tull, Led Zeppelin, and The Beatles. The instruments are raw like their sound. The texture of each song runs several layers deep. For example, by the time the second song, Waiting for the Sun rolls around, the listener is taken to a caravan in India with a long intro jam and a sitar as its highlighted instrument. Climaxing with a stutter, the jam turns into simple, yet fun, rock groove. Tieing the groove together like a brand new pair of moccasins is the soulful voice of Sartez Faraj drifting on a current of psychedelia an extra two or three miles long.
By the time we get to the third song of eight, Time Will Tell, we really begin to understand Siena Root as an artist. Starting at first simple, this song is peeled back like an onion, layer after layer as the journey continues in a line sort of like a wormhole. The journey appears to be in a straight line, but there is no guarantee of any such thing. The world of rock dissolves after a moment into a breakdown and change drifting off into the great unknown, and then vaulting the listener into a reprise. As the third song is cleared leaving us shaking our head in agreement and acceptance, Almost There smacks us in the face to remind us that the best is yet to come. This tune is thickly layered with great, fat organ sounds and a gritty, raw psychedelic guitar slicing through everything like a snake over the surface of the water. Somewhere in the middle of Almost There, even the band realizes they must lay back and enjoy the moment and let the groove sit on top of things for a moment like the fog over a Scottish lake. But just to keep things honest, the moment clears with a spike of rock and roll riffwork leading into a solo made of grass and a vial of blood summoned from the veins of Ritchie Blackmore.
To let the listener recover from the overexposure to so much rock, Siena Root puts the bus on cruise control with their fifth song, Two Steps Backwards. This song is an "f'n rock song". Sit back enjoy the fat analog sounds of the 60's and 70's erupting into your front seat like a hot dog in your microwave as it leads you to pick back up on the rock journey. Then, Wishing For More breaks through to give you some lovin' with a catchy rock riff to carry the backbone of the tune along with the bass. Just out of the range of normal consciousness is the harmonica accompaniment that at first my mind actually said, "What hell is that? Oh, well that was unexpected." At this point, I looked down at my speedometer, and saw that it was a bit elevated. "This song is a lot of fun" I remember thinking. With a warm fuzzy feeling, the next song broke into the air with a depth and fat not yet heard on Far From The Sun, giving way to a soft medley of vocals and great accompaniment from a lone flute. Offsetting the strangely "gaelic rock" mood is what I will call "The Siena Root Rock Yo' Father's Face Off" sound. Faceless and content, I wander, dazed from the seventh song, The Summer Is Old, to the eighth which starts with an honest groove. In The Break of Dawn, the flute and guitar come together as if taunting each other, vieing with one another for the spotlight, evenutally compromising in a strange dance together. And then, suddenly, the album ends as the two instruments seem to leave off into the sunset together.
Siena Root's Far From The Sun is a marvel and a pleasure to which I enjoy listening. Their comprehensive walthrough of psychedelic rock and attention to detail is second to little outside of those icons of the 60's and 70's that set the stage for people like you, me, and Siena Root to do what they do and discover. This album is completely chock full of instruments, too. Generally, a rock album of this type will be limited to drums, guitar, bass, and some vocals. You might get a miniscule amount of keyboards, but that really is usually no more than a bit of CGI work in modern action movies. But with Siena Root, you get a large collage of sounds and instruments from around the world including, but not limited to, the sitar, the flute, the hudy-gurdy, the organ, harmonica, and bansuri (another type of flute from Bangladesh, India, and Nepal). So, if you decide, go grab yourself a couple of purple and green party lights, and a lava lamp. Find a nice, dark, smoky room and slip into some colored sunglasses. Bring out the tweezers, lay back and grab a beer. Press play, and enjoy the ride. This is a good album for it.
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