Michael Hurley – Time of the Foxgloves
No Quarter – Out Now
Michael Hurley recorded Time of the Foxgloves, his first new studio album in 12-years, this past spring during the brief period when the foxgloves of the title were in bloom. It’s his favourite time of the year. Over the past 57 years, he’s recorded 30 albums, beginning with First Songs back in 1964. While recording technology has changed, in many ways, Hurley has not, which is actually reassuring. He records what he wants when he wants, becoming Astoria, Oregon’s most famous, almost octogenarian.
He’s had a mischievous relationship with music since an early age; as a toddler, his sisters hoisted him onto a spinning turntable as he squealed with delight. The delight continues on an album continuing his mission, “I never thought of a career in music, what I do is goof off and try to get away with it.” While it hasn’t earned him millions, he has earned the respect of musicians like Cat Power, Hiss Golden Messenger and Yo La Tengo.
While he’s had brushes with a respectable career, being on the fringes seems to have suited him just fine. Originally, the plan for this album was to record in Kentucky with Will Oldham and Nathan Salsburg, but the lockdown put the kibosh on that. This past June, while trimming blackberry bushes that were taking over his two-acre home, he began thinking of Ohio’s Nelsonville Music Festival, which spawned “Are You Here for the Festival?’ a few weeks later, he was in an Astoria, Oregon studio recording the song with his neighbours playing fiddles. Comparing modern-day festivals to the classic, he sings, “Did ya ever leave Nelsonville with a broken heart?/ Did ya ever leave Woodstock fallin’ apart?” He liked the results so much the song leads off the new album.
Covering the Louvin Brothers’ “Alabama,” Hurley and Betsy Nichols create beautifully earthy harmony vocals while celebrating the state’s natural beauty. Even better is the instrumental “Knocko the Monk,” where Hurley’s banjo plays off Luke Ystdie’s pump organ, crafting moments of raw wonder. Though what Hurley seems to be best at is finding ways to pare things down to their most fundamental elements, as he does when singing about a “summer morning breeze that’s buzzin’ through lush green trees.”
Perhaps the perfect example of Hurley’s way with words come in the last line of “Lush Green Trees”, where his voice rings true, “Sorrow, ignore me please/ Leave me all days like these.” Musically, the setting is sparse, with just enough of his guitar and little else to get in the way, making everything all the more poignant.
Paring things down to their essence, what Michael Hurley does on Time of the Foxgloves is establish that the truth is where you find it. Hurley’s brand of truth should never go out of fashion; it is timeless.