In Gowan Ring
The Twin Trees

I have always dreamed of a folk record that lasts 75 minutes. Not that there is a lack of works by Current 93 capable of approaching a significant length, but the graceless and unsteady vocal evolutions of the ever-excellent David Tibet disturb too often, sanding the ears, whereas I would rather have something more fluid, velvety, caressing.

This is where the splendid “The Twin Trees” comes to my rescue, an artist who, for some reason, manages to capture me every time I encounter his music, from the very first notes, and so for the entire duration: B’eirth has the gift of composing simple yet engaging music, creating long tracks, but never tedious, compositions that are uniform and not dissimilar from each other, yet whose succession never causes boredom and exhaustion in the listener's soul.

“The Twin Trees”, written between 1994 and 1996, released in 1997 and more recently reissued with the addition of the splendid “Still Water Bonne” (dating from the same period and therefore perfectly fitting into the whole), succeeds in lulling and enchanting the senses of those seeking tranquility and relaxation, and is willing to gently immerse themselves in a magical and ancestral folk, dreamy we might add, that sometimes loves to be tinged with mystical psychedelia, without ever slipping into the horrid.

B’eirth’s music has the advantage of being able to flow, glide, slip without hitches or tears, and this does not mean that his is minimal folk: B’eirth is in fact a skilled multi-instrumentalist, handling a multitude of instruments, strings, winds, percussions of all kinds and whatever else can be drawn from the folk tradition. As if that weren’t enough, he is joined on this occasion by a myriad of friends: an uninterrupted series of vocal and instrumental embellishments, with contributions that rain down copiously, enriching with infinite nuances a music that despite its choir-like nature never smells of showmanship. Whispered tracks, pleasantly endless, floating for a long time before fading into bucolic interludes echoing musical feasts and banquets, witnessing the passage of minstrels and jugglers, street artists who stop along their way, refreshed by the sweetest music available.

“The Twin Trees” portrays in soft colors a music that is in no hurry, that escapes the frenzy of modern times to carve out a space in the nostalgia of distant eras when the ticking of a clock did not yet dictate human existence. Like the gentle flow of a river, the compositions float softly, advance slowly, linger for many minutes before B’eirth’s fragile vocals, often accompanied by the nightingale songs of various Melinda Dawn, Lisa Olivia, and Mary Land, flow into the current of an orchestra of nature made up of acoustic guitars, flutes, trumpets, accordions, bells, and soft percussions. In the central part, there’s a tendency towards mystical abandonment, vanishing into blurred visions recalling a dark liturgy of pagan hymns (“By Moss Strand and Waterspathe”) celebrating the beauty, harmony, and grandeur of the world and nature. Tracks of immortal charm, rooted in dimensions outside of time, where each track glows with a beauty that borders on the Universal, and every track is an indissoluble part of a single, intense journey. It’s difficult to cite one episode over another in this sweet drifting, but if I must name one, I indicate the spell cast in the splendid “Cupped Hands Spell”, almost cashian in its solitary wandering through unspoiled lands, invigorated by graceful epic hues: an absolute masterpiece of trovador art.

Allow yourself to be enraptured by the comforting coils of the past.