As the circle of my musical knowledge grows, so does the circumference of my ignorance. Chancing upon a thumbnail description of Sir Richard Bishop’s Tangier Sessions expanded my knowledge by introducing me to an apparently famous (?) guitarist I had never heard of, formerly a member of a band I had never heard of, playing a middle-eastern style of guitar sound to which I had never listened.
Listening to this acoustic, solo, instrumental album raised
a whole lot more questions than it offered answers. Fortunately, the music was beautiful, and the
absence of lyrics allowed my mind to wander on paths both productive and
idle. In the first few listens, I had no
choice but to listen without prejudice – I couldn’t compare it to prior work, I
couldn’t compare it to competing artists, I couldn’t assess its fidelity to
tradition. Just me, my ears, and my
wandering mind.
I loved it – it presents a smoothly enjoyable range of
melodies that meander easily without lapsing into predictability. While most of it is calm enough to serenade a
dentist’s waiting room, it’s no lullaby.
“Safe House” has a heart-racing urgency that suggests danger or
romance. “Mirage” has a tension that
could serve as background music for a spaghetti western draw down in Dodge
City.
Having done a touch of Googling, I can report that Sir Richard
Bishop is not some pampered Brit aristocrat. He’s a globe-trotting guitarist originally
from the USA. The story
behind this album is that he happened upon this guitar in a shop in Geneva,
decided he couldn’t afford it, but ultimately needed to have it. He returned, bought it, took it to Tangier and
recorded this album over a week in an apartment in the old section of the
city. It’s a good story, and I hope it’s
true.
Now for the ignorance part.
I’ve never been to Tangier. I’ve
never played a guitar, except when my Dad taught me to pluck out “Taps” on my
older sisters’ guitars. I’m not informed
enough to rank this album in terms of guitar virtuosity. I know he packs a lot of notes into each
song, and he doesn’t make his guitar strings squeak like a glued mouse the way
lots of other acoustic guitarists do. I
know that he somehow gets rich-sounding deep notes and treble sounds that make
my lip twitch.
Here’s what I do know.
This is a completely enjoyable album that could serve as the background
to a great conversation with someone you love.
I know that it makes me want to go to Tangier and write in a notebook
with a fountain pen. That’s pretty good
work for one guy with one instrument, I think.
Over at Deliberate Obfuscation, Robin agrees that this album transports the listener to a different place, with wondrous musical talent.
Up Next: Then Came the Morning, by The Lone Bellow
Over at Deliberate Obfuscation, Robin agrees that this album transports the listener to a different place, with wondrous musical talent.
Up Next: Then Came the Morning, by The Lone Bellow
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