Admittedly this isn’t the “sexiest” album I found at this year’s WFMU Record Fair. Alas, some of the records I found were ones I’ve featured here in the past (by artists such as MX-80 Sound, The Blue Nile, etc.) and some were TOO modern to be exciting or rare. Trust me, you don’t want to hear about how I found the newest Earthless record or two by Ancestors. The reason I’m stocked about finding this record by Thuja is because it’s been on my radar since its release in 2008…and because I’m such a stubborn asshole I refused to buy any of the copies I came across since then because they weren’t the limited-edition blue vinyl edition. I know that kind of collector scum behavior is douchey and pretentious, but every once in a while my OCD brain refuses to allow me to be happy with a standard issue vinyl when there’s a limited-edition variant floating around waiting to be obtained.
I think I first discovered Thuja because of the Steven R. Smith connection. He had been on my radar for a while, ever since I first heard the album Last Clouds by Mirza. From there I began exploring the Jeweled Antler collective. That turned out to be some rabbit hole, but I so loved the combination of traditional instruments with field recordings and nature sounds that I happily dove in. Originally started by Loren Chasse and Glenn Donaldson, the duo’s grand plan for Jeweled Antler was to release a series of handmade CD-Rs of the various projects in which they and their friends were involved. Chasse and Donaldson were at the time members of a drone/folk group Thuja. Steven R. Smith was involved. So too were Greg Bianchini, Keith Evans, Donovan Quinn, Rob Reger, and others. The collective included such groups as OF, Skygreen Leopards, Hala Strana, Glassine, Dead Raven Choir…it’s a pretty long list. I quickly discovered Thuja, and the rest is drone-folk history.
Thuja… (which is also referred to as a self-titled record, in spite of the ellipses) features Chasse and Donaldson along with Smith, Bianchini, Evans, Reger, Christine Boepple and Bryan DeRoo. So sayeth the Aquarius Records website:
Collected from various live performances, these tracks find Thuja setting up in various venues around the Bay Area, and transforming each location, at least briefly, into a forest glade, or a darkened wood, or a fog shrouded seashore, using traditional instruments as well as sticks and stones and other found objects to conjure up ghostlike soundscapes , each track, every performance, a slow burning sprawl of humid and humming minimalism.
Almost the entirety of the A side is taken up by an epic stretch of alchemical minimalism, a muted series of washed out melodies, of gentle scrapes and distant shimmers, various notes and chords expressed in long streaks, the guitar lines unfurling lazily, the band eventually coalesce into a glistening high end crescendo, suddenly reminding us of Sunroof! with their upper register ur-drone skree, but here that skree is more muted and muddied, a mournful keening, before the band elves back into a more minimal moonlit crawl. Disembodied slowed down riffs are draped over whispered whirs, while the band lurk in the shadows, letting tiny bits of light spill out, creating barely there sonic patterns, and dusty dreamlike song skeletons.
The B side is even more understated, each track a brief soundscape, exploring dark dusty corners, shuffling through a blanket of dead leaves, the band barely there at all. Almost like they set up their instruments and just stood there, letting the wind and the wildlife create the sounds. When the music does materialize, and take more solid form, the guitars weave themselves into delicate little tangles, drifting over deep resonant swells, all around sounds betray the environment, but become inexorable parts of the organic sound being created, snippets of conversation, voices, footsteps, alongside subtle bits of percussive thump, warbly distant melodies, a deep dark ambience, a gorgeously subtle sound that manages to be quietly propulsive even as it seems to hover motionless.
Phew. So, as I stated earlier, I’d seen this record in and around Los Angeles at several stores since its release but I never actually purchased a copy. For some reason I got it in my head that I needed the blue vinyl because it was limited to just 100 copies worldwide. If memory serves I had one in my hand at Amoeba back in the day but returned it to the bin because it was too scuffed for my liking. Typical Amoeba. They’ve got no problem putting beat-up records in their bins and charging mint prices when it comes to experimental stuff. I guess they assume, wrongly, “Fuck it. It’s noisy. No one’s going to notice.” Alas, when I saw one at the WFMU fair I closed my eyes and reached inside — assuming it’d be black vinyl, like 80% of those in existence — only to find blue vinyl. And mint. For ten bucks, I couldn’t reach for my wallet fast enough. I think I got it from the same kid who sold me his Ancestors and Earthless records. Thanks, guy!
Thuja
Thuja…
(Important – imprec173, 2008)
A1. Oaklandish
A2. Hemlock
B1. Pehr Space
B2. Kains Greenhouse
B3. Pehr Space
B4. Kains Basement
