A strange album of songs from the oddly captivating West Coast artist Featherbeard, using mountain dulcimer, baritone ukulele, a mahogany guitar, autoharp, samba drums, pump organs and of course, his voice; obsessive and wonderfully creative music.
Released in: USA
"Debut album from Featherbeard, Incantations, released in October of 2013, recorded on a four track reel to reel tape machine in Beverly Hills, CA. It features mountain dulcimer, baritone ukulele, a mahogany guitar, the chorded zither (also known as autoharp) and of course, his voice. Samba drums, upright bass, sirenic backing vocals, and pump organs fill out the recording beautifully and pay homage to the music of the past and the music of the future. The present, if one exists, is the only place this music has trouble sitting down in and this is a point of pride for Featherbeard, knowing that he will never have to look back on an old photo of himself when he had a trendy haircut and remark with some tone of exasperation, "Oh! The 80s! I can't believe I ever made such a terrible decision as that!"
"Featherbeard was born to a young man in New Orleans in 2007 much in the way Christ was born unto his unsuspecting mother two thousand years previous (that is if you accept the story of the annunciation and virgin birth). The young man--we will call him Joseph H.--had just finished a fried pickle po-boy and some not-too-small quantity of beer in the cemetery he had chosen for his picnic and, as is common following a meal of such a type, fell unconscious. What happened next changed his life forever.
A grinning Baron Samedi, wearing his centuries old top hat and sunglasses with one missing lens, suddenly appeared before him, blew a prodigious puff of thick bacterial cigar smoke into the young man's face, and with an earth-rumbling laugh rising from his belly, shouted, "Awake boy! I have brought unto you a beard!" Frightened, but still too sedated from the contents of his consumption to do anything about it, the young man, having been brought up with the manners of a middle-class household which had not prepared him for such fantastical scenes, let leak out of him mouth the automatic "thank you" which would be the appropriate response to any gift, benevolent or otherwise.
This gift in particular also had an especial appeal to young Joseph H. since he had always been incapable of growing a beard on his own. Baron Samedi continued, "How dare you sleep in my cemetery with a chin so bald it could wake the dead! Here, cover your face with this dead old bird before my zombie army comes to take you below where the light can't shine on your bright white chin! Away with you Featherbeard! Ha ha ha ha!" Startled now with this looming threat, Joseph H. finally awoke from his food and alcohol induced unconsciousness to a sunny afternoon cemetery barren of any Baron, and realized that it had all been a dream. Still alarmed by the possibility of the rising dead, even in this daylight hour, the young baccalaureate quickly mounted his bicycle and sped on home.
In the shower he had intended to cleanse his memory of the alarming scene he had just witnessed, a song he felt he had heard a thousand times rose uncontrollably from his own belly, "I've thought of a new animal...Never conceivéd before..." If this was odd, since it felt as if the song were coming from some source other than himself, his new direction in life would be confirmed when he returned to his bedroom and unpacked his bag to find a fully constructed beard of black iridescent cock feathers. The Baron's laugh rang in his ears as he lifted the beard to his face and felt the pure cthonic energy of the human dead pulse through his veins.
Since that day the songs have continued to come. Sent to Los Angeles, a place he had never set foot, accompanied only by extraordinary circumstances and some acoustic instruments, Featherbeard has been performing ever since then in backyards, bars, music clubs, churches, and private celebrity parties. Whether with a supporting band or performing solo, he wears a dress so that he feels "pretty" when he performs, hoping to either connect with his audience as a mother figure or as an object of desire. Whether you deem the music "Art Folk" or "Archaic Funk" or whatever other arbitrary genre tag, it is a performance that delights and entertains whether through witty satire or through dark and unfortunate earthly realities. At the center of it are the words, which insist that we can still communicate with poetry even in the 21st Century, and the voice, a four-octave range which is as ancient and filling as bread and as rich as odiferous thick-tanned leather.
Musical comparisons have been drawn to Scott Walker, John Jacob Niles, Ivor Cutler, Tiny Tim, The Incredible String Band, and many more, but Featherbeard cites as his only source the unbreakable connection and servitude to the master Baron Samedi ever since their first meeting in New Orleans. He actually believes that he is a vessel for Samedi's creativity here on earth. Featherbeard says that the Baron is tired of only playing music to zombies below and prefers the audience of the living above. Unfortunately the Baron has not gifted Featherbeard with financial gifts along with his creative gifts and the production of Featherbeard's first record has been slow however rewarding. "-Featherbeard website
Includes a download code for the entire album.
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Related Categories of Interest:
Rock and Related
Avant Folk, Etc.
Song Based Music
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Shipping Weight: 16.00 units
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Includes a download code for the entire album.
Catalog ID: 001
Squidco Product Code: 18342
Packaging: Vinyl LP in a cardstock sleeve
Recorded in Beverly Hills, CA on a reel to reel tape machine.
Joseph H.-mountain dulcimer, baritone ukulele, mahogany guitar, chorded zither, voice, Samba drums, upright bass, pump organ
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Ile ride a nue Animull to Nohorizinland
Wales sing to fiend there Love
grone of a mitey Appal Seed, yuo Canibel
the Songe befour the net Songe is the best
lifely dethly aftirdethly
wat will Yuo were to yuor Funeril
I and China, in refrince to othir Things
die Tier freesen Moovie Staars
twiedle die, Morning Berds
menstreul Melidy, a Campfire Seen