Espers the Weed Tree LP Time-Lag Locust Pysch Folk OOP
$
77
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Description
I’m probably not the only person out there who has been waiting patiently, yearning, praying, and generally languishing in the dark of my room for more music from the Philadelphia folkies, Espers. The then-trio’s self-titled debut was easily one of the best records of 2004, their combination of Incredible String Band and Fairport Convention school folk with an impenetrably glorious psychedelic gloom is the thing myths are made of. And no, that’s not just a reviewer’s hyperbole. The music on that album speaks for itself.
The Weed Tree is not the new full-length I’ve been waiting for; it’s an oversized EP of sorts featuring six covers and a single original song. The covers are all across the board – a pair of traditional Irish lamentations, a bittersweet Nico tune, a whimsical Durutti Column song, a simply bizarre Michael Hurley ditty, and a hard-rocking Blue Öyster Cult freakout – but Espers manages to make them all part of the same world. All of these songs are connected lyrically by an overriding sense of abandonment and despair. Their Hurley cover (“Blue Mountain”) is an exception, since the song is talking about a peaceful, silly escape from the world, but Espers render the lyrics moot by adding a fat 12-sting guitar low end, reverb-laden whistles, and dispassionate vocals. For the Nico (“Afraid”) and the Durutti Column (“Tomorrow”), they take the opposite approach, surrounding the deep melancholy of the lyrics with music that could almost be called cheery. And Blue Öyster Cult’s “Flaming Telepaths” is transformed from a heavy paean about the dangers of heroin into an actual depiction of a trip gone wrong.
Espers-the Weed Tree LP Locust 2004.Limited to 500 copies. out of print. NM/NM
"Over the last few years while out on the road supporting their self titled debut, audiences were floored by renditions of traditionals like the bittersweet Black is the color or the intergalactic take on master traveler Michael Hurley’s Blue Mountain. An album of covers & traditionals was a perfect plan... The band had been growing over the years as new friends joined and expanded the group’s sound. Esperhaus, the band’s creative quarters in Philly, was seeing some change in residence; some members would stay while others moved on to other places. Just as members were making some important decisions, a weed in the backyard blossomed for the first time... Hence the name.
Selections were made: Hurley, Nico, Durutti Column, Blue Oyster Cult, trad cuts inspired by Bert Jansch & the Famous Jug Band & a new original called Dead King - a single dispatch from the future - would fill out the album.
We could call The Weed Tree yet another exemplary example of acid folk, baroque psych or sunshine pop with a sinister edge but none of this brings us any closer to giving meaning to a mess of unexplainable tears the result of the old happy/sad life humdrum that, by now, is a personal blueprint for an album gifted with the arch beauty of the Weed Tree.
Espers started just a few short years ago as a trio from Philly featuring singer/songwriter Greg Weeks, Meg Baird and Brooke Sietinsons. Their infectious sound has quickly brought them increased attention on the burgeoning Philadelphia loft scene and stints performing with legends like Bridget St. John & Michael Hurley.
Over the past year, they've dazzled audiences at music festivals in the Midwest & Northeast and have often expanded the nucleus of the group to a mesmerizing multipiece act. Their magical self titled debut combines the elemental sound of acid-folk with the baroque arrangements of late 60s chamber rock. Fully versed in the sumptuous vernacular of drug music, the cradle of Appalachian song, and the succinct truths of the three-minute pop ballad, Espers is an irresistible collection of sweet and subtle songs essential for fans of Fairport Convention, Pentangle, Jackson C. Franck, Linda Perhacs, Bread, Love & Dreams and Bert Jansch. Espers give us the sound of music the way it should be heard - with the ease, infectious grace and absolute beauty of an ever expansive trio bound for always greater pastures." - Locust.
The biggest departure in Espers’ sound on The Weed Tree is the vocals. On their debut, the voices were essentially another instrument to blend in with the psychedelic stew, the lyrics lost in the haunt. Here, Meg Baird’s and Greg Weeks’ vocals are allowed to truly take the lead. Each song centers around their interplay, either with each other or overdubbed versions of themselves, and the harmonies that result are baroque and amazing. Baird’s singing style has changed as well (I hesitate to use “matured” here, since I don’t know if it’s necessarily an advance); she’s warmed up a bit, adding some vibrato, perhaps giving her a bit more vocal depth.
It is also worth noting that the band is now a sextet, with the folks that used to fill out their arrangements in concert now full-time members. As a result, there’s now a whole lot more percussion, even if there’s still nothing that slightly resembles a drum kit. Individual drums are all over the place but they add to the texture more than drive the rhythm. A minor stylistic point, yes, but still an important reason as to why Espers sound the way they do.
All of these little changes combine to make an album that’s as fantastic as their debut. It haunts as surely as their last, but with a little more subtlety; there’s just enough cheer in this music to confer a false sense of safety. And with the finale, “Dead King,” neatly folding into the opening “Rosemary Lane,” this EP is hypnotically self-contained, and more than enough to tide me over until their next full-length.
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