Ben Bedford – The Hermit’s Spyglass
Cavalier recordings – 29 March 2019
I first encountered Illinois singer-songwriter Bedford with the release of his outstanding 2016 album The Pilot and the Flying Machine and immediately acquired previous albums Land of the Shadows and Lincoln’s Man. So, the arrival of this, his fifth release, was eagerly anticipated.
It is not what I expected. Not only has he acquired considerably more facial hair, but there has been a considerable musical sea change in the past three years. There is a deeper, more resonant sound to his guitar playing which, like the music per se, evokes thoughts of Bruce Cockburn. In addition to which, five of the 11 tracks are instrumentals. As I say, it’s not what I expected. And it’s a stunner.
A concept album of sorts, the sleeve notes subtitle it An Illinois Prairie Story and it charts the daily life and meanderings of Bedford and his cat, Darwin, the lyrics full of nature imagery, the mood contemplative and serene, the touchstone more Emerson or Thoreau than Steinbeck.
The day begins in a small farmhouse and the album with the 80-second Morning Rise setting the scene as “Out on the rise, west of the town, where the tall needlegrass burns to the ground. We sit inside, together apart, and a window of light shines in the dark.”
It’s the birds who put in the first appearance. Little Falcon soars and dives on twinkling fingerpicked wings as Bedford wishes he could join him in the sky and escape “the unkindness here below”, joined in the air by the iridescent instrumental Larkspur Awakes. As the day gathers, the guitar work takes on a choppier, harder edge with Coyotes as the dog-singers arrive with their “serrated grin” to howl (as does Bedford) their “dark prairie hymn”, “a shadowy choir of toppled down gods, forged from the iron of stars.”
Having greeted the dawn, it’s time for Morning Coffee, another 80-second track sketching the view from the cabin with frost on the thorn tree branches, sparrows and sun, the music of nature filling his mind.
Darwin takes centre stage for the brief, spare and almost Andalusian-sounding instrumental The Hermit’s Cat before the pair wander down to the eastern pasture, travelling the sprightly, sparkling fingerpicked instrumental path to greet The Mule and the Horse.
The sense of wilderness expanse is conjured in the minimalist strum of Moon and March End where “The sunlight wears a garland of the prairie wind and I can see as far as I can see”, Bedford lying on the earth where “the chlorophyll is the emerald of dreams” to contemplate time passing or, given the lyrics talk of awaiting meadowlarks to come and roost on the branches, perhaps this is Darwin’s voice we hear.
The weather changes with the coming of the circling notes of the instrumental Thunderstorm, the bass string charged with its electricity and power. Calm ensues with the brief Morning Conversation, Darwin again the focus as Bedford muses on whether he knows the birds’ language as “he talks on and on and swishes his tail until mornings gone.”
The day and the album closes on the final instrumental Quiet On The Green Hill with its meditative, reflective feel encapsulating the album’s overall evocation of a simple life, at one with nature, of timelessness and memories. Breathe it in and let it fill your lungs and mind. Bedford was once described as among the 50 most significant folk singer-songwriters of the past 50 years. This album changes that. He’s now among the Top 30.
Photo Credit: Kari Bedford