A Hawk And A Hacksaw
Darkness at Noon

THE REVIEW

Jeremy Barnes is certainly an eclectic character, and after Neutral Milk Hotel, here he is in another decidedly different production. In A Hawk And A Hacksaw, what stands out is the "folk" aspect in the most general sense, not always geographically characterized, although with a predominance of Balkan atmosphere.

The instruments used are accordion, winds, strings, and piano, with Barnes on the accordion managing to play without ever falling into tango, a very difficult feat, avoiding South American aromas and never straying from Europe. A magical atmosphere that seems stolen from Dvorak's Slavonic Dances yet is less attuned and harmonic; it recalls fragments of dissonant sounds from child accordionists in the underpasses of stations or metros. It's hard not to think of Goran Bregovic or Kusturica's geographies, but the resemblance is weaker than one might imagine, perhaps because the use of strings is less incisive, and there's a banjo that occasionally appears.

I won't describe the individual tracks because none particularly struck me during listening; perhaps the very brief number nine is the one that deviates the most from the situations described so far, with a sweet song accompanied by piano, but the episode is nullified by the subsequent track "Wicky Pocky," which immediately brings us back to the joyful (one would hope) post-dinner atmosphere of a Romani camp. Less "Balkan" is also "Portlandtown," the piece that closes the album with a sort of nursery rhyme with a more "Celtic" flavor. An enjoyable album that doesn't aspire to become a masterpiece.