Review: Steve Von Till ‘Alone In A World Of Wounds’
Steve Von Till’s creative output has been fairly prolific over the last few years; in the lost times of 2020 he released the incredible, heartfelt No Wilderness Deep Enough, a fifth solo outing which marked his first release following the parting of ways with a former bandmate from their life’s work at the cliff face of cutting-edge music.
Since then, he has dedicated his time to the neo-folk, classic Americana influenced path he has followed, as well as releasing an instrumental version and numerous albums under the Harvestman banner. This included last year’s stunning Triptych, which formed a spectacular single piece of music, as rich in spiritual and celestial meditative exploration as it was in the winding dub and drone that permeated all three records.
They say of social media that you should never read the comments, lo and behold, I made that mistake, getting into it with a chap on the announcement of lead track The Corpse Road and the album itself. The person in question hoped it would be a crushing metal project and expressed frustration with Von Till for releasing these fragile and vulnerable compositions and how he ‘owed us something heavier’ after the completion of the latest Harvestman project.
Needless to say, my observations that music released under his own name was a very different vehicle from the post-metal titans that made his name were met with exactly the kind of civil and rational response you can expect from what Shaman Lee dubs ‘social evil’. Never read the comments… certainly don’t reply…
This incident actually throws this seventh album into sharp relief. Alone In A World Of Wounds continues his exploration of the gothic tinged, achingly beautiful, droning ambiance. Composed using all manner of instrumentation, including French horn, steel pedal, synths and incidental sounds made from field recordings, which provided such sonic depth to Triptych.
Thematically, the album is a breathless sigh that considers how humanity has become disconnected from the world we live in. Having binge watched the series Yellowstone lately, there is a similar repeated idea that we, as a species, have stopped living with the land and started living on it. This psychic break with nature has exacerbated the problems within ourselves, with each other and with our treatment of the world. Alone In A World Of Wounds seeks a shift in consciousness, returning us to our animal nature and our symbiotic relationship with an animate Earth in a tender lament that spans eight densely constructed tracks of sonic reverie, having more in common with Ennio Morricone and Leonard Cohen.
As with his last venture, Von Till employs a host of musicians to help craft his vision. Featuring long-time collaborator Dave French (Yob) alongside Ben Chisholm, Brent Arnold, Randall Dunn and Luke Bergman, to name but a few, on a host of additional instruments. These textures of light and shade complement the delicate resonance of the piano, guitars and synth that weave a subtle tapestry for Von Till’s voice, which is as gravelly and as rich as anything he has ever sung on.
Opening with the drumming, windswept tones of The Corpse Road, there is the trademark gentle warmth of flute like sounds and synth swells that will run like an undercurrent through the album. As regal horns sound with creaking strings in the almost acoustic atmosphere, there is an unconscious link to both his previous album and his Harvestman projects.
a stunning and beautiful album from one of music’s true visionaries…
The lyrics, as with all the tracks on the album, are yearning, searching and questioning. Delivered in his distinct voice, Von Till marks this release with more depth and range to the melodies he deploys. On Watch Them Fade he pushes the way he articulates the words, in particular the title refrain, with barely restrained passion and urgency as he explores the subject matter with defiance ‘No I can’t and I won’t, No I will not watch them fade away’.
Alone In A World Of Wounds is very much a lyrical album, as dexterous as any of his poetry, right through to the final moments of River Of No Return and the haunting ‘Where would I be?’ that closes the album. Whether these lyrics found life in the music, lifted from the pages of a notebook to take flight, they do so against forty-one minutes of a liminal journey that takes in the organic dub of Watch Them Fade, Horizons Undone sweeping soundscapes, the waltzing Distance and the melancholic Calling Down The Darkness.
Simply putting the album on in the background means you miss so much of the layered composition that makes it special. The various field recordings, often sounding alien due to the lack of familiar urbanisation, add crackling textures that somehow live and breathe with the music, creating a distinctly unique entity.
The idea that Von Till has to be musically defined by his past does a disservice to the evolution of the man’s quest to make stirring, spiritual compositions that speak from his heart to the primal and core psyche within us as inhabitants of this planet.
It is not a perspective I could have attained twenty years ago, and I don’t mean to sound patronising when I say that being closer to fifty than my teenage years, there are plenty of angry bands out there who deal in jack hammer catharsis as Von Till doesn’t owe you anything of the sort. After decades at the coalface of darkness and violence, with Alone In A World Of Wounds, he asks you to consider why we feel this way and seeks to find a way to reconnect with the missing part that has left us so bereft. It’s not going to be for everyone, but it is a stunning and beautiful album from one of music’s true visionaries.
Label: Neurot Recordings
Band Links: Official | Facebook | Bandcamp | Spotify | Instagram
Scribed by: Mark Hunt-Bryden
