Buck Curran: No Love Is Sorrow
Obsolete Recordings
Buck Curran's third solo album provides an in-depth account of the American-born and now Italy-based singer-songwriter and guitarist, comprised as it of vocal songs and instrumentals; a dusty old piano piece even works its way into the set-list. True to singer-songwriter form, the material's rooted in personal experience, the miles Curran's covered since leaving the folk duo Arborea behind and embarking on a solo career from his overseas base.
Recorded between late 2018 and February 2020, the songs confront highs and lows, from the pain of losing family members and friends to the joy of anticipating the birth of a child. Love, loss, hope, fear, and excitement all play a part, and intensifying the personal nature of the project, every vocal and instrumental sound is by him, except for additional vocals provided by Adele Pappalardo and on one song tabla by Dipak Kumar Chakraborty. Echoes of American Primitive, Indian classical, psychedelic blues-rock, and ‘70s folk (UK and American) emerge, with Curran drawing for inspiration from John Martyn, Peter Green, Robbie Basho, Sandy Denny, Pentangle, and others. Sixteen tracks are presented on the seventy-minute outing, though with four addended as alternate takes the album's more accurately a twelve-song package.
Its two poles are showcased by the opening songs. The aforementioned Indian influence memorably asserts itself in “Blue Raga,” an entrancing acoustic guitar instrumental that Curran locks into with ease. Chakraborty's along for the ride, but his tabla's so low in the mix it could be missed were one not informed of its presence. With many songs vocal-based, it's heartening to report Curran possesses an appealing voice. Delivered in a deep, husky ache, it's one of the best things about “Ghost On the Hill,” though the mix of acoustic and electric guitars also adds to the haunting tune. With his voice pitched low on “Deep in the Lovin' Arms of My Babe,” it's easy to imagine Johnny Cash booming out lyrics like “The North Wind's a howlin' / Like a hungry beast a starvin' / Coming for to steal my breath away.” Adding variety to the vocal dimension, Buck sometimes multi-tracks his voice to bolster its impact.
While it would be wrong to characterize No Love Is Sorrow as unremittingly bleak or bereft of hope, desperation never feels far away, regardless of whether the song's a vocal or instrumental track. Particularly portentous is “One Evening,” a dread-filled portrait of contemporary life and all the threats it carries (“And somewhere in the distance a dark storm's churnin' / But it's not the flashing lightnin' I fear”). Yet for a troubled soul, love holds the promise of salvation, as evidenced by the words Buck and Adele harmonize on in the lilting “Odissea”: “And no chains can bind me / In that place you find me / And your love sets me free.”
On the instrumentals tip, the spooky title track plunges deep into blues-soaked shudder. Whereas a wholly different mood is understandably nurtured in Buck's heartfelt paean to his partner “For Adele,” “Chromaticle” captures Curran's foray into a more experimental zone. In keeping with its title, “War Behind the Sun” is the album's rawest piece, a snarling electric guitar instrumental awash in feedback and molten fire. Starkly contrasting with it is “Lucia,” which brings the album (the alternates excluded) to a pretty and quasi-pastoral close. Depending on your point-of-view, “Django (New Years Day)” is either too disruptive to the otherwise dominant guitar-and-vocals presentation or provides a refreshing respite in its solo piano presentation. Even if you're inclined to the former, the album's eleven other pieces certainly amount to a compelling enough argument on its behalf.June 2020