Buck Curran – One Evening And Other Folk Songs :: OndaRock Reviews

In the beginning there is an idea, that of having certain musicians at your side, chosen with all due care. From there, as in the times of the most important jazz collaborations of the Sixties, it is a downhill road. No, the title of Buck Curran's new album makes it clear that there is no trace of jazz, but the conviction of a synergy that transcends habit and the glues of time to rediscover instinct, immediacy is similar. This is how “One Evening And Other Folk Songs” was born, a collection of eight songs and four versions alternatives/demos in which the American musician captures the magic of a few summer nights in 2022 spent with the singer and wife Adele H and long-time and less long-time friends (keyboardist Jodi Pedrali, bassist Roberto Frassini Moneta, drummer Dave Barbarossa, formerly with Adam And The Ants and Bow Wow Wow), giving back an image of sincere vitality, of heartening energy. In the charm of the live recording lies the joy of a collective experience that transcends the sum of its parts, spreading with tripled momentum.

If the hypnotic guitar scansions, always persuasive and supple, remain the focal point of the collection, they nevertheless take advantage of the collaborative nature of the sessions to branch out the expressive force towards a dimension with markedly rock contours. Curran cites the common passion for Pentangle that unites him to Barbarossa, and the live features of the recordings perfectly recall the aura of a masterpiece such as “Basket Of Light”, in the stylistic alternation with subtle progressive features, in the succession of tradition (the rearrangement bluesy of the everlasting standard “Black Is The Colour”, all played on the gurgling bass of Frassini Moneta and the elusive, ghostly interpretation of Pappalardo) and personal experience (the rhythmic, almost cinematic bursts of “Song For Francesco”, dedicated to his son and also proposed in a more bony and reverberated alternative version).
The psychedelic veins that have always accompanied the musician are certainly not lacking, clearly visible already in the re-adaptation of the title track in the opening; however, they find new holds, another depth, whether it is the emotional vertigo of “Sadness”, all played on the instrumental dialogue between Curran and Pedrali, or the primitivist openings of “Zitkala-Sa (Song For Shylah)”, the spectre of Robbie Basho hovering above the simultaneous dedication to his daughter and to the Dakota writer and activist.

In this electric synergy, Buck Curran's art finds a new fire, it feeds on a different energy, the fruit of a timeliness and a curious character, capable of breathing the moment without hesitation, without fear. Few twilights, so much magic.

07/31/2024