Esbe – Ten Songs / Far Away
Self Released – Out Now
Esbe’s Ten Songs and Far Away follow on from the well-received Desert Songs: Memories of Rumi and Mystra: Songs from Byzantium. They are welcome additions to the canon of an artist who deserves wider recognition for her approach to songwriting and recording and the results it yields. Put simply, this is intriguing and powerful music by any standards.
On first listening, the dictum that the balance between content and form is everything to art becomes immediately apparent. Their relationship is why free verse is something sixth-form poets do and disavow later in life while Shakespearean sonnets still resonate four hundred years on. Form gives shape to content. The mastery of both allows an artist in control of themselves and their craft to communicate precisely and recognizably, yet with nuance and insight.
It is clear from the way that Esbe defines the parameters of both Ten Songs and Far Away and Not Crying But Singing in almost formal terms in the liner notes of each that she is aware of this relationship; and of the reality that it is the way that art pushes against the boundaries of form that gives it meaning. Within the established contexts of each, the material that presented comes across as clearly originating from the same artist, but is subtly different in each case.
Far Away, Esbe informs us, is an album that was, from the outset, to be recorded ‘very simply’, with no overdubs or edits. Guitar and vocals, all recorded in one or two takes. By contrast, Ten Songs was conceived from the outset as being ‘consciously written’ in ‘the singer-songwriter style’ as an almost formal exercise in disciplined practice. Both approaches are evident in the material on offer with the emotion of the songs pushing and growing against the formal parameters that have been laid out. In each case, the economy and precision of Esbe’s classical training are evident, but there are no ostentatious displays of technique for technique’s sake – everything is at the service of the song.
For example, taken from Far Away, Obsession’s tightly-voiced chord clusters create a claustrophobic feel perfectly suited to its narrative of jealousy and suspicion. The tight, nuanced sound opens out to jazzy inflections, perfectly catching the vocal moment when the clipped evocation of suppressed feelings swells into those feelings unstoppably spilling over. In a world dominated by I, IV, V, head to the relative minor for the change regardless of the subject matter songwriting, it’s a masterly wedding of craft and emotion.
Similarly, from a technical perspective, Ten Songs’ Chan No Yu’s referencing of Kyoto tunings in its arpeggiated patterns is complimented by clever accenting bass notes which are picked close to the bridge to give a brassy metallic sound that consolidates the song’s Eastern atmosphere – a conscious choice by the artist to use timbre as much as concord to sustain a mood. Above this floats a deliciously ethereal vocal whose emotional heft is supported by well-chosen harmonies that swell up below the top line at key moments. It is a song that summons and maintains a mood with the simple elements of guitar and voice far more readily than would be achieved by an orchestra, score and full production bells and whistles.
There is evident method – repeating arpeggio and chord patterns established to create hypnotic atmospheres that support and complement the vocals. There are also echoes of the work of other singer-songwriting luminaries of ages past. But despite the simplicity of the tools, a range of moods and emotions are conjured. Esbe’s voice is a thing of beauty – one moment ethereal and almost ephemeral; the next almost brassy and jazzy. It is matched by the guitar playing, which displays a formal precision that betrays her classical training while using the dynamic and harmonic possibilities of the instrument to accentuate and emphasise the mood and subject matter. As such, this should not be dismissed as easy listening dinner party music – something to fill out the background while the conversation goes on elsewhere. There is a conversation happening here – between instruments, between singer and song and between form and content – that invites you to join their dialogue. In doing so, one travels through a range of powerful and personal observations on divorce, grief, suicide and depression and homelessness as well as a historical excavation of Kristallnacht directly pertinent to the polarised state of contemporary politics.
It appears that Ten Songs is to be Esbe’s last foray into music. A diagnosis of Musician’s Focal Dystonia looks as if it will prevent her from playing the guitar in the future. This condition is better known as the ‘yips’, something more normally associated with sportspeople. It is a malfunction in the part of the brain which processes information for a set of actions or a particular finger – in this case, the fingers of Esbe’s second and third right-hand fingers. It prevents her from playing the guitar, and there is no cure.
If it is, the above notes should indicate that music and folk, in particular, is losing a compelling voice – and it can only be hoped that Esbe’s perfectly measured approach finds another creative outlet. Until then, Ten Songs and Far Away are a particularly hypnotic and beautiful final series of performances, but ones tinged with sadness as to what might have come next from an artist with a unique perspective to offer.
Both Ten Songs and Far Away are engrossing and refreshing in an age where a lot of music appears to have had the kitchen sink thrown at it in lieu of any better ideas to find an artist prepared to strip everything back. Yes, it would be easy for this to pass the casual listener by – but it shouldn’t. The sparse arrangements are deceptive. The purity and simplicity yield more and more depth with each repeated listen. This is reflective music in its truest sense. The more you listen, the more you find. Excellent.
Order Ten Songs and Far Away from Esbe’s website here.