Folky revels, medieval-style psychedelia and west coast weirdness. These elements are ever-present in the work of Pat Gubler, aka P.G. Six, who creates his own magical mysteries in song. His excellent new album, Murmurs & Whispers, has a discernibly mythic slant with pastoral sensibilities. On it, Gubler plays the Celtic Harp, guitar, keyboard, recorder and hurdy gurdy. Fans of Bill Callahan, Bert Jansch, Joanna Newsom and Richard Dawson should be alerted.
How did a native New Yorker come to develop such an Anglo-folk sound?
A bit unusual for a kid from the Bronx, I admit. Some of that came through my older brothers and progressive rock albums they were listening to by bands like Jethro Tull. I first saw the name Maddy Prior (from Steeleye Span) because she sang backup on Too Old to Rock n’ Roll, and there were other connections with groups like Fairport Convention. I also listened to a little bit of baroque music. I was fascinated by the sound of the harpsichord. First, listening to Bach and Scarlatti but then Couperin, Purcell and back in time to music compiled in the Fitzwilliam Virginal Book. Later I would hear versions of those pieces played by Bert Jansch and John Renbourn on guitar.
In the mid-eighties, my older brother Steve got interested in the Irish harp through records by Derek Bell and Alan Stivell. My family went to a Celtic Festival in the Catskills, and there was a vendor who had a couple of Irish harps. We had never seen one up close. There was a harp called a Sandpiper by a luthier named John Westling – my brother stayed in touch with the vendor and wound up purchasing that very harp. So, that was the gateway drug. I’d been playing piano for a couple of years, then started on guitar, and now aged sixteen, had access to the folk harp. My first tunes were Irish, but I soon began experimenting with improvising and writing on the harp.
Your sleeve artwork for Murmurs & Whispers is enchanting. What does it seek to convey?
I started off with the back cover. Growing up, I was a fan of fantasy and sci-fi. I read a lot of Tolkien knock-offs and loved any book with a map of an enchanted land. Maps were a big selling point! My map on the back cover is a fictionalized version of the area around my friends Clark and Wednesday’s house, where most of the album was recorded. Some road names were changed to protect the innocent. Their nickname for the house is “The Bower”, and their band, Pigeons, made an LP with that title. The imagery on the front was influenced by the text of I Have a House. The presence of a chess piece and a gem, with a harp thrown in for good measure.
You’ve done two co-writes with Sharron Kraus on the new album. How did you meet?
I met Sharron through the band, Espers. She spent some time living in the Philadelphia area. We had talked about doing a collaboration at some point, but it took years before we got around to it. One of the things I like about her is that, although she might be known for this Gothic and Folk Horror imagery, she has quite a sense of humour when you talk with her.
Barley Wine on the new album sounds like an ode to drowsy English summers. Have you travelled here much?
A bit, but not as much as I would like. I don’t know how much of the old-world flavour I might have soaked up. I managed to do things like take a sip of water from the Chalice Well in Glastonbury. I went to a festival in Wales and trod around in mucky boots. And I got to visit some great pubs that have been around a few hundred years. We don’t have that over here.
I Have A House is based on a twelfth-century Irish lyric, Iubdhán’s Fairy House. How did you come across such an obscure poem?
There’s a delightful book published by Penguin called A Celtic Miscellany. It’s mostly bits and bobs of different things: stories, poetry, fragments. When I encountered this particular text, it just seemed so strange and mysterious. There are other more absurd stories of Iubdhán, who was king of the Wee Folk. He and his Queen Bebo went to visit the land of the giants and wound up falling into an enormous bowl of porridge. They were taken prisoner and finally released in exchange for a pair of magical shoes that would let the user walk on water.
I Don’t Want To Be Free is an ominous piece. Can you give us some insight into the narrator’s visions?
Oh, that narrator. He’s a deeply flawed person! Nothing whatever to do with me, haha. Anyway, the song talks about abandonment, resentment, hatred. But at least the narrator recognizes the futility in this. In the end, it doesn’t matter, and all is washed away by the relentless tide.
Tell Me Death sounds like a survivor’s tale. Is it apocalyptic?
That’s one where Sharron came up with the lyrics. I sent her an instrumental version and had no idea where she might go with it. I like these folk songs where we can have a conversation with Death as a character. They’re often about attempting to strike a bargain. Death can clearly come off as the villain; at other times, Death appears almost sympathetic.
Is droning in music a shortcut to inducing certain mindsets?
I’m attracted to drones, but my experience of them is confined to… I guess the correct word would be the sensuous level, as in what I hear or, in the case of loud sounds, what I feel in my body. My younger self would’ve liked to believe I might be making myself receptive to some otherworldly influences. But the present-day me, if I’m being honest, realizes that’s not really in the realm of my own personal experience. I’m not a particularly visionary person. But it’s quite possible that others might be more in tune with that.
Who is Pat Gubler away from P.G. Six?
Pat Gubler is pretty dull. He likes watching the telly and drinking beer. His girlfriend is into bird watching (the proper term is birding). Anyway, he enjoys accompanying her on strolls around upstate New York.
Pat educates us on the harp:
Murmurs and Whispers is released on 1 September 2023 via Drag City.
Pre-order it here: https://lnk.to/murmursandwhispers