MARK MCGUIRE - Along The Way

We're used to attaching a derogatory connotation to the term new age, and rightly so. It's to blame for having effectively obscured and discarded, often unjustly, a whole swathe of past music filed under that definition — some of it devoted to the melodic updating of traditions that were anything but popular (from German kosmische musik to the most varied forms of world music, via ambient — whether original or filtered through the Californian lens — right up to solo piano work now lumped under the modern classical banner). Once the saga of commercial triumph for sounds that were in some cases genuinely praiseworthy, when extrapolated from a context steeped in fake, hypocritical spirituality, had run its course, the instinct was to erase from memory what musicians like Kitaro, Gandalf and Ginkgo Garden had splattered across that decade.

So much so that today, we'd wager, more than one reader will wrinkle their nose at hearing these names cited as models in a review of a Mark McGuire record, the man responsible, alongside Emeralds, for the most important kosmische revival operation since the one carried out by his fellow countrymen Radio Massacre International. “Along The Way” is perhaps his first record to venture unreservedly into territory - already brushed against repeatedly throughout his mountain of past solo releases - that draws heavily on the so-called new age tradition, setting aside any experimental pretensions to immerse itself in a kaleidoscope of pastel colors, prairies, sunsets and programmed relaxation. Whether the effect is intentional or not remains unclear, but we're certainly a world away from the lush paradise of “Get Lost”, replaced here by an almost Dionysian air of affectation.

Take the opener as the perfect paradigm: sitar arpeggios and dewdrops lull you in on “Awakening” before “Wonderland Of Living Things” openly quotes late-period Ray Lynch. When he picks up the electric guitar, McGuire keeps flaunting his unmistakable style, reduced this time to sketching the little blue stream running through the stereotyped Eden of “In Search Of The Miracolous”, the counterpart to the possessed choirs and hushed synths of “To The Macrobes (Where Do I Go)?” or the confetti rain at the village fair of closer “Turiya (The Same Way)”. The watercolor of “Astray” delicately hits the mark, bettered only by the mantra of “The Rising” and the return to late-period Emeralds, complete with a pop sheen, on “The War On Consciusness”.

This, however, is also where the “good half” of the record ends, with the rest amounting to a pile of ready-made sketches fit for a The Sims soundtrack (“The Human Conditions (Song For My Father)”), some Café Del Mar-style lounge mixes (the dreadful dance-pop flirtations of “For The Friendship (Along The Way)”), an ad jingle for the next Renault model (“Arrivals Begins The Next Departure”), and a possible parody of Mogwai (“The Lonelier Way”). Tracks that are nothing but the most typical demonstration of how atmospheric music, today more than ever, risks being a realm where a lack of genuine inspiration can lead to some truly resounding lapses in taste. Here the blow is softened by a first half of the album that flows by pleasantly without leaving much of a mark: certainly not enough to spare it from a verdict that borders on failure, to put it mildly. And between the lines, the absence of Emeralds is felt loud and clear.

Ride the wave of great music

Add OndaRock to your favorite sources on Google Discover. Don't miss our reviews, milestones and latest news straight in your feed.

Follow on Google

28/02/2014