Devendra Banhart
Rejoicing In The Hands

THE REVIEW

Despite being very young and with only 3 albums to his name, Devendra Banhart is already a highly regarded musician in the indie circuits, and he is cited as the charismatic leader of the "new" genre called Prewar Folk Esplosion that is involving part of the American musical underground. Indeed, Devendra has a bit of the captivating aura of a flower child guru/grandson, (long hair and velvet pants yes, but also a damn trendy t-shirt) his live shows are performed by candlelight (but a small fire would be even better) and both he and the audience are seated on the ground cross-legged (but he has big cushions).

Rejoicing In The Hands (Of The Golden Empress), released in June 2004, is delightfully naive, and Devendra is too. A pure person who knows no cynicism or sarcasm. Someone who truly is who they are without pretense. Or at least, that's how he's described, but I believe that, as usual, the press embellishes the story a lot. Anyway, beyond the character who may or may not be likable, this is a great album, more defined and complex compared to the previous two, more mature one might say, but still homemade, even though this time the "home" is no longer the squat in Manhattan but the house of M.Gira introduced to him by his friend Siobhan to whom Banhart has dedicated his beard and a song: "This Beard Is For Siobhan".

The tracks are no longer the surreal and somewhat sad nursery rhymes of "Black Babies UK" born from a difficult period (now he refuses to play them live) but happy pieces of folk and blues with a whimsical magic that evoke a natural and delicate beauty scented with green, resin, and starry skies.

The lyrics highlight a prolific and particular writing style, in the glass bubble where Devendra's world resides, plastic has never been invented, it returns to the origins, to the human relationship with the glory of mother nature: "In the dark we are without her empress light/ In the dark we are without a light/ Half asleep we are calmly waiting through her night/ We wait till she arrives/ Clouds of birds are covering her dark blue sky", violins and piano and simple percussion. Or he recounts his daily life "Will is my friend/ Will sings like John/ goin' back to California... Will is good friend of mine/ With whom I spend lot of my time" sung on Will's bass which also accompanies him live. Or again he praises the joys of physicality: "The body breaks/ and the body is fine/ I'm open to yours and you're open to mine/The body calls out it whispers at first.../Yeah the body burns strong/ and 'till mine is with yours/ mine will burn on/ My flesh sings out/ Honey come put me out... / The body sways like the wind on a swing/ a bridge through a hoop/ or a lake through a ring..." infinite sweetness of acoustic guitar.

New generation hippy music, more mystical and less political. Luminous.