Music Review: Paul Duncan - Above the Trees

Paul Duncan's new album Above the Trees was released by Hometapes on May 1 and since that date I have been listening to it again and again and again. Obsessively. Rich with texture and a trailing narrative, it's the kind of music that you won't get sick of, or rather can't get sick of because it laps over you, envelopes you and lets you live inside of it. And the living is good.

This is Paul's third release, following 2003's To An Ambient Hollywood and 2005's Be Careful What You Call Home, and his first outside of a home studio. Written in a three month period and recorded in just one week with engineer Tim Iseler in Chicago's Soma EMS studio, Above the Trees features a soaring symphony of guitars, violin, cello, drums, clarinet, pedal steel, piano, trumpets, and ghostly synthetic noises creating depth and layers throughout each track.

Often compared to Smog and Bonnie Prince Billie (Will Oldham), Paul's voice levitates and hovers above each orchestral composition, the lyrics forming short stories told with a lexicon focused on natural imagery. Red eagles taking flight, branches being thrown into the fire, lake waters attacking shorelines, and a shepherd being called in from the field make up the characters and scenery drawn upon the eerily sonic sounds, painting images of a dark Thoreauian countryside.

This isn't just good fiction. Born in Texas and schooled in Savannah, GA, the current resident of Brooklyn has true southern roots and an ability to blend them with rock and folk styles to create a distinctive sound that remains authentic. Playing NYC's Mercury Lounge last week, Paul took the stage looking like a down-to-earth guy in corduroys and a blue button down and took swigs of Jim Beam in between songs, sharing his bottle with the crowd. So when he sings lines like "a bird in my belly is singin bout Texas / while my aunt Sue Ellen is sleeping with crosses….I've plenty of keepsakes – not many memories / I've paid for my passage – I'm leaving on Tuesday," on the "The Lake pt.1," the sentiment comes across genuine as his voice softly rises above the pedal steel and B3.

Article Author: Brewed Fresh

Brewed Fresh lives, laughs, hustles, plays and attempts to survive in New York City. A music and art lover with passion, she freelances on these topics and others.

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