ALAN STIVELL: AMZER (2015)
1) New' Amzer — Spring; 2)
Other Times — Amzerioù All; 3) Matin De Printemps — Kesa-no Haru; 4) Mintin
New' Hañv; 5) Au Plus Près Des Limites — Je Marcherai; 6) Purple Moon; 7)
Postscript; 8) Kala-Goañv — Calendes D'Hiver; 9) What Could I Do?; 10) Kerzu —
December; 11) Halage; 12) Echu Ar Goañv? — Till Spring?.
For several years, word has been leaking out
about the preparation of a new Stivell album, but then the process became so
stretched out that eventually everybody lost interest. When it was finally
released in 2015, it was done to such tiny fanfare that even some of the
regularly updated Internet databases failed to register the event — but yes,
there it is, finally: a brand new Alan Stivell record that shows the man ready
and willing to settle into very old age, but unwilling to abandon his dedicated
search for the last cosmopolitan chord.
Once again, this is not so much a «Celtic»
album as a fusion between several genres, or, at least, a «Celtic perspective»
on different parts of the globe. In addition to the predictable vocal and musical
motifs of French, British, Brezhoneg, and Gaelic origin, Stivell now displays a
fascination with traditional (and I stress — traditional!) Japanese culture, even inviting a couple of Japanese
ladies to recite some classic haiku lines on some of the tracks. Actually,
that's not really a lot of
internationalization: musically, Stivell remains closely tied to his harp and
the Celtic tradition, and he might be a little too old now to try and pick up
the koto. On the other hand, it does
count as a symbolic recognition of the close connection between all sorts of
folk traditions, Eastern and Western, and the link between Celtic harp melodies
and haiku recitals feels almost surprisingly natural. So, hey, if this is any
help in getting some Japanese cultural fund to donate to the preservation
needs of Brezhoneg culture... why not?
The problem with Amzer (which, by the way, is the Breton word for 'time, weather,
season' and announces the rather obvious conceptual theme for the album) is
that most of the actual music here is not very interesting. According to
Stivell himself, it was largely based upon his improvisation routines, and
also reflected a growing interest in studio experimentation — many of the
tracks feature elements of «computer-assisted deconstruction-reconstruction»,
which sounds cool on paper, but in reality makes the whole thing very confusing
and unfocused. There are really no memorable melodies, just a lot of
atmospheric «harping» around, usually at low volume and with very little energy
— bordering on sheer ambience most of the time, really. As atmospheric background
muzak, it's every bit as good as any Stivell product that remained unspoiled by
silly technology: pretty harp, chirping birds, cloudy synths, and Stivell's
voice, despite the aging process, has not lost a shred of its friendliness or
expressivity. But where even Emerald
was, after all, a collection of compositions, some of them very memorable, this is a decorative piece — yes, like a
cute little Japanese garden or something.
The only actual «song» is ʽWhat Could I Do?ʼ, a
strangely un-cozy, blues-tinged dirge with bits of distorted guitar and
wheezing synths cluttering the background and a general atmosphere of worry and
even depression. It is not completely out of place, because it fits in rather
naturally with the ensuing harsh coldness of ʽDecemberʼ, apparently
illustrating a grim winter mood. But most of the time, the atmosphere is very
light — not exactly joyful, but optimistic and spiritual-celebrational, right
from the opening ʽSpringʼ and until the album closing instrumental ʽTill
Spring?ʼ that brings us full circle. A quiet, unpretentious affair: despite all
the digital experimentation, Amzer
is first and foremost an album by somebody who's got absolutely nothing new to
say, and does the next best thing — sits on his front porch and cooks up nice
radiovibes, dissipating as quickly as they are generated but leaving a
pleasant aftertaste.
I do have to state that if this is really the
best that the man can come up with over a six-year period, this means that he's
largely finished as an artist. But then again, who at this time could expect a
new Symphonie Celtique from him?
These «front porch improvisations» are nice enough to serve as background music
for the time being — and if it happens to really be his last album after all,
who knows, maybe repeated listens in the future will make it seem like the
perfect musical goodbye from an old tradition-cherishing geezer who decided to
go out with a gentle breeze rather than a stunning bang of an album.
Perhaps it will get to the point where, through the sheer amount of artists in the A & B sections that George has reviewed, there will be no more new artists reviewed because these already-reviewed artists are releasing albums at the same rate George can write on them...
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