Wolf People
Steeple

Time flies... It's cyclical, passes quickly like a summer storm, leaving traces all around. Penetrating the earth, fertilizing it, nourishing it, seeping into the aquifers, it becomes part of us, the very essence of life. Time.

Rock has always been one with it. Capturing the best of it. Like tissue paper, it emerged soaked, making it its own. Time.

These four English folk rockers don't seem like the usual band that references the past, taking advantage of a quiet moment; rather, they're a megaphone of the rock echoes that were, subjected to DIY anti-wrinkle sessions. The result sounds as virile and sincere as a dated vinyl bought at a flea market. "Steeple" is the successor to what began with the singles collection "Tidings." No Neil Young-style folk, no various minstrels, no "west coast" atmospheres; they sound damn English and the references are all in the ballads and acoustic inlays of the progenitors Fairport Convention, Pentangle, and the early Traffic ("Banks of Sweet Dundee pt.1 and pt.2"). In the solid blues with a hint of psychedelia of Cream who gather for a session at Bron Yr Aur (look at that, in Wales as the origin of these little wolves). Because the shadow of the Led Zeppelin is always around the corner. Leaving the door to Canterburyan prog slightly ajar. It may remind with due distinction of the debut of Wolfmother as a great seventies jukebox. If they are the first British group to pass under the bright Jagjaguwar (Black Mountain and Okkervil River among others), there must surely be a good reason.

Their chiaroscuro calling card bears the name of "Silbury Sands", closely followed by an embarrassingly similar "Tiny Circle" to the Tull of This Was ('68), those who mixed folk with Robert Johnson's black gospel. On that note, enjoy the B-movie flavored video of the aforementioned. The guitars of Wishbone Ash in loop "Morning Born" are mixed with the fragrant incense of "Castle Keep" before dissolving in the breeze of certain arpeggios that recall the forgotten Hatfield And The North. And how many years has it been since we heard a piece so blatantly sixties but with a damn modern twist like "One By One..."? Many.

Their low Ph psychedelic folk rock aligns with the ranks of young bands refusing to cut the umbilical cord with the past: Tame Impala, Sleepy Sun, Black Mountain, Quest For Fire, Graveyard, etc., all big stuff indeed.

For those who followed their older sister's advice and worn out "Tommy" in the dark with a candle in hand. And for those who didn't. For those who are fascinated by the mere sight of a country house. And for those insensitive even to the vastness of empty spaces. For those who never look back, convinced of their actions. And also for those rummaging in the bin looking for the paper ball thrown away the day before certain it might come in handy. Got it? Not really?

As I said earlier, time flies, like the forty minutes of "Steeple" between the grayness of the present and the green fields of past open-air festivals. Suitable for time travelers like you and dreamers like me.

Because maybe the doors of Motel Woodstock are still open.

The opinion of Commendatore Bossolazzi:

Four beautiful ripe medlars, as the right season is about to arrive.