Review Summary: where is the beauty we lost in our youth?
Old Sentry Who Saw The Transfiguring is a collection of recordings, taken from betwen 2004 and 2008, designed to chart My Kappa Roots' course from his first recordings in hometown Fife, though Paris and eventually Glasgow, stopping along the way in Iowa and Edinburgh. As such, the recordings here come both before and after the superlatives-do-no-justice masterpiece
The House of St. Colme Burnt Down. In a way, they show Pablo Clark's progression as a folk artist, but moreso as an individual. The first tracks showcase his unique but unpolished talent with words and with strings and with transference, but, as the record runs through, the maturing of lyrical themes, expansion of ideas and overall refining of his skill becomes more prevalent. Towards the end of the record Clark experiments with large amounts of ambience in 'Our Asbestos House', and, with 'Port Christopher', drums and electric guitar embrace to create something complete alien to the rest of My Kappa Roots – excessive volume. And, funnily enough, it works.
To say this selection of recordings is on par with
St. Colme would be a lie. It doesn't even come close. I like to think of this as more of an accompaniment to the debut, a selection of side notes that give the listener something more to digest once
St. Colme is over, and also provides them with an insight into the workings of the free-roaming mind of the artist, when not limited to stories of his growing up. But that's not to say
Old Sentry is not a beautiful and thoroughly moving record in its own right. Because it is. Clark sings with heart-warming restrain, so hushed and so reserved that it always seems like he's telling you a secret so personal he wouldn't dare let anyone else hear. And yet, with that same feather-light volume, he can still manage to convey feelings of despair, hope, regret, anger, joy and anxiety to degrees so worryingly high they almost burst from the speakers. Add that to his gorgeously stylized, yet still varied, guitar playing and his unique ear for melody (the sort of melodies that tug at the corners of your mouth when they arise) and you have something that shouldn't need to ask to be heard.
If you don't have any My Kappa Roots in your life, you are missing out on something quite special. Even if Pablo Clark never finds the recognition he deserves, his music will never cease to provide solace and comfort to the few who find him. So go and find yourself a recording of
The House of St. Colme Burnt Down, lose yourself in your favourite chair, and don't come back until you've given it at least half a dozen spins. Then just try and stop yourself from checking this out.
