Joan Shelley – Like The River Loves The Sea
No Quarter – Out Now
Kentucky native, Joan Shelley lives only 30 miles from poet, Wendell Berry (listen to his reading of The Peace of Wild Things). In many ways, her fifth solo release, Like The River Loves The Sea, inhabits a similar sense of stillness found in the writing of the celebrated naturalist. Much like MC Taylor of Hiss Golden Messenger, Berry’s discourse appears to have had a profound impact on Shelley’s songwriting.
Despite being a seasoned touring musician (who recently opened for a string of dates with Richard Thompson) Joan’s heart resides in Louisville. When recalling the bustling scenes of the Kentucky Derby to a cramped audience at The Castle Hotel in Manchester back in 2016, you could hear that instinctual tug homeward from the warmth in her delivery. These ties with place and that pastoral magnetism happen to inspire both artists’ work. And the similarities on Like The River… run deeper still.
The contemplative mood of Berry’s poems offers solace ‘in a time when men can no longer imagine the lives of their sons’. Whilst Shelley’s voice, her lyrics and the soundscapes in which they find themselves suspended, possess poetry entirely of their own. Many tributaries converge to create this impression of aural refuge. This time around Shelley chose to record at Greenhaus Studios in Reykjavik, Iceland, initially in a short five-day burst with James Elkington and touring partner, Nathan Salsburg as her backing band.
“Iceland sits on top of that bubbling ridge and gains strange new land by its spreading,” she describes in the press release. “It was the desire to drink in that otherworldly landscape and experience its effect in the music, the way different alcohols have different intoxicating effects on a body” that seemed to direct their choice to record there. In a recent Rolling Stone interview, Shelley continued, “Iceland was, like, literally, an island in the middle of the ocean between Europe and us. And something about that was really poetic to me”. Unlike 2017’s self-titled release produced by Jeff Tweedy at The Loft in Chicago, the Greenhaus sessions required the band to adapt quickly. Stripped of their usual comforts and with a lack of banjos to hand, they had to acclimatise artistically.
It’s easy to imagine Iceland through a mystical lens. Sigur Rós might be an obvious musical point of reference here. Via the stunning documentary Heima and their 2016 project Route One (where they drove the entirety of the country’s ring roads, broadcasting the 1332km journey live on YouTube to an ever-evolving generative soundtrack) we see an expansive, largely uninhabited landscape and hear how its influence shapes their cinematic sound. Although Like The River is still rooted in Kentucky music (which takes its cues from Irish, British and African traditions) it does evoke similar feelings of quietude as Jonsi’s Riceboy Sleeps. Perhaps the North Atlantic Ocean divide isn’t so vast after all.
At times it’s almost as if the former strictures of her songwriting dissolved in the country’s hot springs. Like Fleet Foxes’ Crack-Up mosaic, everything that first intrigued us about Shelley remains intact, except now it’s slightly more fragmented. It washes over the listener in soothing, shifting waves. The transition of tracks from Teal through to The Fading is arguably the most gorgeous offering in Shelley’s discography to date.
As always Shelley’s breathtaking voice is at the fore. When her measured, fragile melodies arise there’s the feeling that they risk being spooked at any moment. At times they appear so delicate, you long to cup your hands around them, to closer examine the intricate grace notes that make up their grand design. On When What Is she comes in just slightly louder than a whisper with, “I’ve watched you fade and slip and falter. I’ve seen you bold, I’ve seen you weak. And I have wanted more than offered. I see the devil in my needs” The purr of dusk and a weary piano edge in as the verse fades, verging almost on Grouper levels of intimacy. Elsewhere she seems to share the same open country air as Julie Byrne.
This lightness of touch is mirrored across the entirety of Like The River. Whether it’s the lonesome careen of a slide or the subtle build of brushes, Salsburg and Elkington’s accompaniment is tasteful, restrained and complementary throughout. Whilst Þórdís and Sigrún Jónsdóttir’s traceless backing vocals manage to lift centrepiece Cycle to even dizzier heights. Whiskered neighbour Will Oldham also proves as adaptable as ever. The tumbling tone of his harmonies is spectacularly paired with Shelley’s lead on Coming Down For You and The Fading.
Earlier this month Shelley shared her reinterpretation of Hank Williams’ Setting the Woods on Fire. “Let’s shake em up, let’s save tomorrow. We can’t stand for this much sorrow. We can shut down Bolsonaro. Who set the woods on fire?” she sang in response to the Amazon Rainforest wildfires. Urging us to care for the land we live on, it’s a response Berry’s been championing his entire life. His essential works, after all, are entitled The World-Ending Fire. As the deafening noise of destruction and depravity grows louder, Joan Shelley is an artist who doesn’t have to shout to make herself heard. Inviting you in to take shelter from the storm, her simple meditations strike at the heart of what really matters. There’s wisdom at play on Like The River Loves The Sea, which returns you once more to the peace of wild things.
Like The River Loves The Sea is out now on No Quarter.