Joseph Arthur
Vagabond Skies
Lonley Astronaut
By Mike Randall
Imagine a baseball game: three glorious hours of green grass and batted balls and oiled leather. It’s a sacred art form that’s not for everyone, but those devoted know it’s the perfect way to pass some time. Then there are the couple hours of warm-ups before the game, the preparation before the main event. There are aspects of pre-game that are worth the price of admission alone: watching a slugger put ball after ball into the seats during batting practice, standing alongside a pitcher as the zing of his fastball whizzes by your ear. However, you’re also stuck watching players jog purposelessly in the outfield and staring at the grounds crew watering the grass and dirt to optimize the field. With four EPs slated for release this year before a September full length, Joseph Arthur is letting us in on his warm-ups, complete with the peaks and valleys experienced when someone is trying to lock into a groove.
Now three records into the series with the release of Vagabond Skies, Arthur has demonstrated his prolificacy through mini sets of loose music, and he’s starting to hit his stride. Each release thus far has seemingly functioned as its own postcard sent from a different place at a different time, both literally and figuratively, and both a tad too uneven. Whereas he’s done the folk thing with Could We Survive and taken a weirder, electronic-tinged approach with Crazy Rain, Skies comes off as a stronger hybrid of both.
Arthur’s strength here is melody, and he shines brightest through tight, compact folk songs that showcase his gift for crafting arrangements that mostly eschew the extra trimmings of the full band setting. The album opening “Slow Me Down” is classic dirt-road folk that finds him morphing into a cerebral, atmospheric chorus, and from a guy whose quantity of output is beginning to rival Ryan Adams, the line “Don’t know where I’m going/Don’t know what I’m trying to find” might be truth in lyric. Still, he shows no signs of changing his tune by saying, “You slow me down and I can’t wait for you.” Channeling Hunky Dory-era Bowie during “Even When Yer Blue,” Arthur utilizes dual layers of acoustic guitar and a gliding melody to create an interesting waltz-y texture, but the highlight is the never-before released “She Paints Me Gold,” a fan favorite and popular request at shows. With its stoned march of a progression and Arthur’s falsetto, “Gold” is a slow spaceship ride that leaves the listener in a trance, reminiscent of Wilco’s “At Least That’s What You Said,” complete with an awesome mimic of that record’s jagged Neil Young solo.
Fans of Crazy Rain will appreciate “Second Sight,” but it will likely fall short among those into Arthur’s more traditional, straightforward troubadour side. Certainly the most polarizing track on the record, “Second Sight” sounds as if doom is on the horizon, as a psychedelic electro-groove gives way to a chorus that screams “Run away!” over and over. He redeems himself with “Pretty Good Company,” a narrative about an inescapable tumultuous love and an excellent example of space-y folk in the vein of Beck’s Sea Change. Arthur finishes up strong with the gentle late-night folk-pop of “It’s Too Late,” an ode to woman he hopelessly wants back and can’t get off his mind. “I’ve been running all over town looking for something to fill up,” he sings in a voice that’s brimming with sadness and anguish.
Arthur is an artist in the truest form – a painter, photographer, musician. Everything he touches he treats as a sort of canvas, and that includes the traditional record format. With the lessening attention span of music listeners, the EP might be a more common thing in the future, especially as albums are torn into fragments and pieces through downloads and MP3 players. Arthur figures his songs are worthy enough of standing up on their own, and for the most part he’s right, especially on Vagabond Skies. If anything, he’s keeping his name in the press months ahead of the release of his full-length, almost like a ballplayer who’s had a few good nights at the plate.
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