reviews

Steve Gunn – Other You

To be Steve’s neighbor and hear his guitar explorations over the last 16 months or so would be an enviable position. Since the onset of the pandemic, he’s released a good amount of music, including an EP of covers, two of which originally recorded for Aquarium Drunkard’s Lagniappe Sessions with the addendum of a haunting version of Neil Young’s Motion Pictures”; Spring in Brooklyn, three gorgeous guitar meanderings for Cafe OTO; and a 7″ with Cass McCombs, featuring Michael Hurley’s “Sweet Lucy” and Gunn’s lead on the Scottish trad classic “Wild Mountain Thyme.” I list all these things just in case you missed something and you, like I, consider yourself on a quest to be a Gunn completist.

The other thing Gunn was working on, outside of releasing previously-recorded or at-home recordings, is Other You. Out tomorrow on Matador Records, it’s the latest official LP since (my album of the year for 2019) The Unseen In Between. This was my first experience with Gunn and since then, I’ve dived deeply into his back catalog, from GHQ and on, and it’s been fascinating to retroactively experience his musical evolution.

Gunn is my favorite living guitarist, a sight to behold, so interestingly Other You is his least-guitar-solo-forward collection of songs to date. Instead, piano and percussion pave the way, but Steve’s silvery voice is the most prominent instrument, in fact, sounding clearer and more melodic than ever. I’ve always loved his singing but he’s been quite open about the fact that it isn’t second nature to him and hearing it continue to enlarge and expand is a gift.

The opening notes of the title track begin to build the ethereal wall of sound, Gunn’s voice singing the name and sounding somehow fragile but renewed while doing so. “Morning River” features harmonies from the magnificent Bridget St. John, whom Gunn welcomed onstage recently at the epic Bell House show, regaling the crowd with “Ask Me No Questions” before debuting “River.”

Julianna Barwick’s unmistakable vocals add light to “Good Wind” – a perfect choice, as if I had to pick one singer who embodied the element of air, it’s her. “Circuit Rider” sounds the most like classic Gunn, with subtle but lacey guitarwork from Bill MacKay, before the bridge picks up and lingers in the air with the sigh-worthy words “gentle you.”

“On the Way” features a prog-forward lick that makes me wonder if Steve was drinking from the same well Ryley Walker was this year, or likely, discussing records and pedals at the time; while the intrepid bassline of “Protection” adds groove and a spacey synth and more spread-out and celestial guitar exploration.

“The Painter” is a standout track to me… this is Gunn at his most intimate. Although his lyrics are still a bit obscure (in a literal sense) and abstract, something sounds broken open. And there’s that lovely guitar I’ve been looking for – tender, crystalline and delicate.

The album’s lone instrumental track “Sugar Kiss” shimmers, Mary Lattimore’s harp work creating a twinkling, effervescent glow, the title and sound a summation of the pinnacle of dulcet. The closing track, “Ever Feel That Way” is a strolling song with gorgeous harmonies.

Worth mentioning is Gunn’s adaptability and ability to evolve this much from his beginnings as a singer songwriter, as it parallels with his musical growth as an experimental guitarist. Last year’s Soundkeeper proves that he’s whatever the opposite of a one-trick pony is.

Whereas The Unseen in Between is forever a black-and-white after-the-rain album to me, Other You is a green-tinged, palm-frond-framed moonlit sky. Tropical twilight in mood, enshrouded in clouds of atmospheric fuzz. Each listen brings a reveal. With undeniable beauty, Other You is a grower- subtle, fluid, expansive and deep.

Get Other You on Bandcamp.