Duke Garwood – The Sand That Falls

On a label with such an unapologetically thrilling name (Fire Records), one could expect an exhilarating explosion of the musical sorts to ensue the placement of Duke Garwood’s third album, The Sand That Falls, into one’s CD player; or at least a single spark from deep within this damp mass of tracks?Recorded in a vast, deserted house, Garwood assumes the position of the meditative recluse, similar to the highly praised (and rightly so) Justin Vernon on his For Emma, Forever Ago LP. However, expecting a family of songs tied together with such a wholly untouched and uncompromising feel was naive of me. Whereas Vernon chose to stack and meticulously intertwine his thoughts like the wood and twigs he collected to start his many fires, and then simultaneously burnt them off cathartically in a burst of affecting songs, Garwood instead, unfortunately, settles on mulling over them, never really seeming to arrive at anywhere notably different.Supposedly the main target The Sand That Falls was trying to hit was that of the atmospheric kind: to create a spacious album of assorted sounds, steeped in a fractured, lo-fi kind of blues. Yet, these ten tracks never amount to enough, not once summoning up the same degree of humbling existential and natural musings of similar counterparts, The Microphones. Instead, this album falls awfully short and in turn would not sound out of place at an English Yoga club, replacing the mournful Whale cries usually heard within, with the unremittingly dull tone of both Garwood’s guitar and voice.Maybe the house ‘The Sand That Falls’ was recorded in just wasn’t that exciting. Maybe it was just an ordinary terraced house somewhere in Hull. Maybe Garwood’s nomadic ways saw an end in the Ikea grey walls of the (not-so) living room. Regardless, as the title of this album aptly suggests, The Sand That Falls seems to take an eternity to pass before its final line of “leave no trace” is heard darkly resonating from the speakers. Without any real change of tempo or any significant musical dynamics throughout, each song just seems to blur into the other and the listener inevitably finds himself or herself questioning whether the ten tracks listed on the sleeve are truly there at all. 10%Duke Garwood on MySpace