Fire + Ice
Birdking

While this "Birdking" has decidedly few novelties to offer to those already familiar with Ian Read's art, it deserves credit for bringing Fire + Ice's music back to the glory of a fundamental album like "Hollow Ways."

The matchless guitar of Michael Cashmore (Current 93) returns, which, as it did in the aforementioned album, also here is able to lavish class and expertise abundantly, making us dream as always with its magical and crystalline arpeggios. And this is perhaps the real ace of "Birdking," which also boasts contributions from more or less illustrious names in the neo-folk scene, including Douglas P., Michael Moynihan and Annabel Lee of Blood Axis, and Richard Leviathan, a multi-instrumentalist and frequent collaborator of Douglas P., both in Death in June themselves and in Scorpion Wind with Boyd Rice and James Murphy. Artists and friends who enhance with their talent yet another achievement by Ian Read.

Indeed, Ian Read has proven over the years to be a sincere and consistent artist, with unassailable rigor and a solid, well-defined intellectual profile. An artist who has been able to produce a series of excellent works in the darkness, always driven by a strong conviction and founded on a real artistic urgency. Perhaps the fact that Read has never boasted a massive following, and therefore has been able to operate in total tranquility and absence of pressure, has ensured that his art always shines with an inspiration and involvement typical of those who play simply because they have something to say and not because they have to fulfill a contract with their record label. As they say: the fewer we are, the better.

This "Birdking," as I was saying, once again embraces the acoustic folk dimension that had been momentarily set aside for the mystical atmospheres of "Runa." The ingredients are therefore the usual ones: excellent arpeggios, forays of strings and brass, formidable harmonium passages, some female intrusion to enliven everything, and the indispensable suffered singing of Ian Read. All this, this time, is enhanced by a production finally matching the artistic content and greater executional attention, aimed at limiting the smudges that had in the past partially prejudiced the final result. The only dissatisfaction is that it adds nothing to what has been said so far by the English artist, and that therefore the listening experience will probably suffer from a vague sense of déjà-vu, since the solutions are those of always and Read’s voice is what it is, more or less stationed on the same tones. On the other hand, it is true that those who love this artist will certainly not be disappointed by an album that presents no weakness and flows beautifully. An album with countless opportunities, to be listened to in the darkness of one's bedroom, or under the bright sky of a beautiful sunny day, as long as you are alone and in search of intimate contact with yourself or the world around you. Once again, Read’s fluid voice helps us tear through the veil of appearances, transcend reality, and seek the essence of things.

This time, our journey moves with the elegance and sophistication of twelve well-set jewels. Let yourself be captivated by "Dragons in the Sunsect," a worthy successor to a stellar piece like "Lord of the Secrets," sung in unison by Read and guitarist Joseph Budenholzer. Be carried away by the poetry of the title track, a gem of apocalyptic folk whose intertwining guitars and harmonium (by the always excellent Cashmore) vividly recall the atmospheres of a superlative work like "Sleep Has His House" by Current 93. Dream on the wave of the overwhelming acoustic gallops of "The Lady of the Vanir" and "Take my Hand," the former embellished by the evocative singing of Alice Karlsdottir, very close to the vocal evolutions of Shirley Collins, the latter distinguished by the unmistakable touch of Douglas P., on guitar and piano. Give in to the melancholy of "Greyhead," enriched by Lee's violin and Moynihan's percussion. Finally, ascend to the notes of the organ in "My Brother," where Read's graceful voice soars in the air, weaving poignant textures.

In 2000, Ian Read still appears in shining form, far from retirement, unlike other exponents of the scene, demonstrating uncommon longevity and inspiration which earn him the utmost respect. Like a fine wine, Ian Read seems to improve with age, and this "Birdking" is the clear example. Recommended for those wanting to approach this fundamental artist for the first time, never sufficiently appreciated.