Rick Deitrick – Coyote Canyon
Tompkins Square (TSQ5838) – 2021
Josh Rosenthal has never been afraid to quietly question and challenge the sometimes rigid guidelines too often attached to solo guitar music. Anybody au fait with Tompkins Square’s important Imaginational Anthem catalogue will be aware of the diverse instrumental guitar music there is to be found. Rick Deitrick‘s Gentle Wilderness – originally released as a private press in 1978 – found a wider audience after its Missy Christa track found its way onto the Michael Klausman compiled Imaginational Anthem Vol 8: The Private Press. Like Rick’s subsequent River Sun River Moon album, Coyote Canyon is largely built of material from around the same period that Gentle Wilderness was being created and even shares a version of the song For Marsha, here sounding slightly looser in structure and perhaps even a touch less self-conscious.
In fact, it is noticeable when listening to Coyote Canyon that, although familiar, its sound is more diverse than Gentle Wilderness while maintaining Rick’s preference for standard tuned guitar. There is certainly nothing like the quite urgent (for Rick) Movin’ On on either of the above albums; it is built from an itchy little refrain that plays out like a chase song and is gone in under two minutes. Whirlwind is another miniature, even shorter this time, but completely different in character, with hints of the calm intro to Stairway to Heaven in places. At the opposite end are opening track Little Tujunga and the book-ending Three Sisters, both of which hit over eight minutes, with the latter just shy of ten. Three Sisters is the only song here recorded past the seventies – it being spontaneously composed and recorded in 1999 – but its inclusion does nothing to harm the consistency of the set. Its calm nature and considered structure is actually a rather beautiful way to end the album. It is probably my favourite on here; the playing is crisp yet pensive throughout, and the piece is quietly complex, with three acts symbolising three barren hills in the Arizona desert.
I love Rick Deitrick’s music; Gentle Wilderness and River Sun River Moon are regular listens. Coyote Canyon is a welcome addition, with its sound familiar yet different, almost dramatically so at points. As I mentioned above, Movin’ On is in a different mood to the previous albums and Tumbleweedin’, an improvised and previously forgotten song, is very much in this vein. There is an attitude here in the playing that evokes the starkness of the title, especially in Rick’s heavy use of the bass string as a drone in places, creating an ominous buzz that runs through the other notes. When your only tool is a single tracked acoustic guitar, the dynamic range can be a challenge for some. While this is unmistakably a Rick Deitrick album that will seamlessly slip into his catalogue, there are also intriguing moods and techniques at play that give it its own identity. In short, Coyote Canyon is an altogether intriguing and rather lovely album.
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