It is quite pleasing to hear the acoustic guitar used more prominently within experimental music these days --  not that it ever really went anywhere. Indeed, both the acoustic and electric guitar remain just as prevalent in music as they ever were, but under the grand marquee of the musical universe, neither seem to get top billing anymore.  It's becoming rare to hear a recording composed entirely by guitar, and if we do, it is usually tweaked through so many audio effects or computer program patches that it suffers from a complete loss of identity.  But of course, this marriage of the guitar plus computerized digital signal processing was bound to happen, and lucky for us, it has been a relatively good stretch.  It has helped pave the way for many fantastic works of art from the likes of Fennesz to Leafcutter John, all the way up to big name acts like Radiohead and The Mars Volta.  Nonetheless, artists are quite a restless bunch, and it is clear that this technique is starting to lose some of its appeal, as well as its widespread use. We're beginning to hear more music in which the dry, unprocessed acoustic guitar is taking center stage, while the audio effects are merely in the background serving up atmosphere and texture.

Herein lies a potential problem if an artist chooses to compose and record with a guitar.  If we remove all the clever audio effects and widely available digital processing plug-ins, we're left with the intrinsic wood and bone structure of the guitar itself. Which means: the artist better know how to play the damned thing because there will be nothing to help him conceal a lack of technical proficiency.  Such should not be a concern for Andy Cartwright, a UK-based musician recording under the name Seabuckthorn. 

While there isn't a lot of information to be found regarding Mr. Cartwright's project, listening to his latest release, Distant Summer Storm, is proof enough that he is a very well seasoned guitarist.  A simple internet search brings forth a wealth of links concerning a deciduous shrub of the same name, but very little concerning the artist called Seabuckthorn.  Even his MySpace page contains little information about this man. Instead, it contains several pictures of nature scenes in Nepal, as well as a mysterious mask whose purpose remains quite unclear.  Since this guy seems to guard his physical identity closely, perhaps the mask is acting as a metaphor, which in turn may help create an element of heightened mystery for his audience and his music.

Disregarding the rather cryptic nature of his image, the music of Seabuckthorn is surprisingly straightforward.  In fact, it's a simple formula:  highly charged, unprocessed acoustic guitar phrases in the foreground are coupled with copious amounts of audiophile atmosphere in the background.  Simplistic as this recipe may be, the record's success lies in its ability to continually delight and surprise despite having a formula that's predictable.  There are a few moments on the record where the music begins to wind down, as if coming to a close, but as soon as we think it may be over, yet another energetic melody on the guitar lifts us right back up.  A fine example of this can be found in the transition from the track "Between Dreams" to the fifth track "From Dusk."

This careful use of pace is one of the other reasons this record works as well as it does, but the most fascinating aspect of Seabuckthorn's guitar playing is the warm, Spanish style in which he plays. He tends to eschew the more commonly used pastoral, folk-based style of the acoustic guitar for a sound more closely aligned to classical guitar.  Evidence of this can be found almost immediately throughout the opening track, "Galloping Into Thin Air."  Here he plays an energetic guitar passage accompanied by a cavernous rhythm backdrop, but nestled within all of this is a haunting, yet beautiful moaning sound, quite like the wail of a banshee calling for her long lost lover in a dark, deep forest. It's a perfect counterbalance to the romanticism of the solitary guitar.

Cartwright's guitar playing is so enchanting and skillful that it is easy to overlook the rich, sonic activity going on beneath it.  Ironically however, this is also where we approach a bit of a small problem:  his backing atmosphere, while effective most of the way, starts to become trite and empty with his excessive use of slide guitar.  Most likely pushed through a reverb/delay effect, the slide guitar certainly adds body to the fabric of his work, but he uses it far too much and the listener begins to expect it.  Almost every track contains the sound of an icy cold slide guitar tone, and this detracts from the mysterious quality of his work -- if only for the fact that it is used continually throughout the entire release without much restraint.  This overuse endangers the crucial element of mystery and intrigue his music brings.  Mr. Cartwright should think about space when it comes to his background ambience and concentrate on what is between all the various sounds, rather than what can be added to it.  This is a miniscule complaint in light of such a strong release, but it can't be overlooked.

Distant Summer Storm may not top any 'best of the year' lists, but it's a record that shouldn't be ignored, which reminds me of a sentence written within the liner notes to Brian Eno's landmark 1978 album Music For Airports:  'Ambient music must be able to accommodate many levels of listening attention without enforcing one in particular; it must be as ignorable as it is interesting.'  The music of Seabuckthorn encompasses this notion with great prestige, and does it make it all the worse for being this way?  Absolutely not.

-Michael Duane Ferrell