John Fahey – City Of Refuge

I went to college in Salem, Oregon, only blocks from the downtown, and in spite of the changes that must have taken place since John Fahey lived and died there, its identity remains. The Mill Pond ran through my campus and down into the Willamette River, parallel to several other picturesque drainage canals; the Southern Pacific railway still runs along State Street and blows its whistle on afternoon runs; Tim Knight still sells guitars to the alternative-rock stars at the Guitar Castle, and can tell you about his time in the John Fahey Trio. Salem is a great town which still feels cozy even in spite of its objectively horrific suburban sprawl. Most of all, though, a special hush hangs over the outer parts of its northwest old quarter, the dandy modern town with an opera hall and a state capitol and a university that lumberjack hands sculpted out of the monolithic wilderness. This special sort of quiet tickles the ears in Salem, on its side streets and in its parks and along its canals and railroads, whispering hazy ideas to suggestible minds. There’s not too much to do there, and often those ideas are formless and come to nothing — the improvisations on “City of Refuge” wander and don’t really resolve — but at least they were there. Ultimately this record is a lock whose key is a place: John Fahey was listening closely to the quiet, seeing where it went, and even if it didn’t turn out a batch of songs, it captures Salem all the same.

IT'S GENERALLY A rule for most people that if it doesn't have a melody it's unapproachable and discomforting. But for some of us the certainty of formula is not always appealing. City of Refuge shows John Fahey in a different light altogether. Perhaps his most recent collaboration with avant-garde experimental musician Jim O'Rourke has yielded a new "urban" feel to his sound. Lots of static and noise - characteristics you don't normally attribute to Fahey. But buried in there somewhere, is a melody, however subtle, it exists as an undercurrent or at least suggested at. Opening up with "Fanfare" are buzzing overdriven distorted notes that drown out the noise from what sounds like motor hum of some sort. Slide enters at the end - in a near fatal collision. With the motor still humming on "The Mill Pond," notes from the head of the guitar are well placed; detuning it at the same time and at some point tuning it back to another frequency. He starts to chart familiar territory on "Chelsey Silver, Please Come Home" sliding up and down the neck and bare finger pickin' like the non-revivalist man he is. Nine minutes into "City of Refuge I" - the prelude sparse installments of hanging notes in free form style - comes that hidden melody - floating and coming down. "City of Refuge III" is like anything off his previous records; bluesy, emotional - eternal. The new formula works best on "Hope Slumbers Eternal." On the last song sampling STEREOLAB's 'Transient Random Noise Bursts With Announcements' Fahey reminds us that his associations with punks and alternative types - in and around the Salem Oregon area - has kept his music honest, fresh - a signpost.