Review Summary: For all dogs in limbo.
At the twilight of the millennia, a young singer songwriter from Cambridge named Richard Youngs sat down in a studio at Ruskin Heights, in Glasgow. I like to imagine the room being dark and cold, with a pensive Youngs mustering enough strength to pour out his soul with the only help of his classical guitar, while a quiet and solemn John Hogarty watches from the other side of the glass window in awe, as the first notes bloom through the speakers. Youngs is about to confront, process and let go of despair, a devastation caused by the loss of a dog called Sapphie. The story says it was his dog, but it could be his friend's, or his neighbor’s, or a tribute to all the lost dogs in the world, I honestly don't know, but the way he materializes these feelings would lead to think Sapphie was indeed his very dear furry companion.
Sapphie was published by Oblique Recordings in 1998, an album containing three monumental tracks featuring Youngs performing in a way that I can only describe as brutally honest. The original recording was reissued by Jagjaguwar two years later and it became a staple release for the label. Youngs' singing in the album is far from perfect, he wails, and bawls shrouded in sadness, to the point that its imperfections seem to be the result of a project without a plan, without rehearsal, that he sat on that chair in that Glasgow studio and when the chords started to flow, he entered a state of catharsis and turned this recording into something that was the exact opposite of conventional folk. It became a funeral, with him being the sole attendant, and so rules and conventions were bent and stretched in favor of an eighteen-minute drone tune that probably left the studio silent for another 20 minutes when the recording was finished.
Jagjaguwar has recently turned 25 (congratulations!), and the label has been basking in all its glory recovering old material in different forms, as part of a catalogue named JAG25. I am not aware of how, who or when this project started, but it was set at some point that Hypnotic Brass Ensemble, the eight-piece from Chicago formed by the sons of trumpeter Phil Cohranm, would be in charge of reviving Youngs' emblematic work from the ashes of oblivion, and in doing so they would have some extra help.
Moses Sumney was summoned for "Soon It Will Be Fire", the opening track of
This is a Minfulness Drill: A Reimagining of Richard Youngs' "Sapphie", and it only takes a few seconds to know why. Obviously, Youngs' performance, as stated above, was not flawless, even if the notes fell into place like it was their fate all along, like it was part of some celestial plan to create the ultimate folk tune, his fragile state overpowered any form of technicality in favor of truth and essence. Sumney's performance is, on the other hand, sublime, breathtaking, from his astonishing falsettos to his perfectly controlled vibrato. With him, the ensemble enhances the song beyond the simple and heartful arpeggio of the original with a myriad of arrangements and layers, unraveling the first minutes of the record with tasteful delicacy.
For "A Fullness Of Light In Your Soul", Perfume Genius was the voice chosen to bring Youngs emotions into new life. Here, the differences with the original are even deeper. This new version expands the central melody into different, larger rooms, with plenty of effects in the vocal tracks, interlaced harmonies and studio tricks that offer a new dimension to the song while keeping intact the core of the original recording. It's in the few moments where Perfume Genius is left alone with the arpeggio where the magic of the original feels like it's reaching out to touch you from times past, and it's a strange and beautiful thing.
The titanic closer, and probably the hardest one to cover, "The Graze of Days", features no other than the almighty Sharon Van Etten who, probably in good judgement, cuts the original track time of eighteen minutes to thirteen, and lays down at least two vocal tracks at all times. The classical guitar notes emerge from within the mantle of keys through different tracks like Youngs was playing at least one of them himself, the accuracy is almost maniac, while the droning tempo of the original session is reproduced religiously. It's in this track where Youngs finds some sort of enlightenment after carrying the heavy burden of loss throughout the first two tracks, and as he lifts its weight off, the aural pilgrimage comes to an end, and despair disappears forever into the void.
With
This is a Mindfulness Drill..., the Ensemble has managed to create a path to a record that had remained unknown until now for many, me included, in a way that feels rich and contemporary while at the same time respecting everything that made the original session an all-time classic. Moses Sumney, Perfume Genius and Sharon Van Etten, they all show their love for the record through their brilliant contribution to this tribute to Youngs' work, and their effort brings it closer to modern audiences, shining light on a room once dark and cold, where a lonely figure vanishes into the memory of a moment that now, thanks to them, will never be lost in time.
