Soil from Stone

I have the fortune of being friends with a number of immensely talented individuals. Although I don’t have a lot of musical talent myself, I have friends who do, which is almost as good. I get the privilege of hearing their voices and music without a lot of obligation in return. Telling everyone else about their talents is the least I can do.

I realize that my readers might suspect my partiality, and they’re probably right to do so. On the other hand, although I might be biased, I’m not going to lie and say someone is great if I don’t really think they are. I wouldn’t be helping my friends if my criticisms were merely fluff.

I met Brad Shearhart and Marc Nesbitt a few years back. They were both involved in separate projects, trying to figure out where they belonged. (I’ll see if I can get them to tell you more about it themselves.) Sometimes it seems like the only things that connect these two men are their music and their common discontent with the way things are. While they will likely always be searching for their exact place in the world, Thread Atlas represents a major step in the right direction. It’s something worthwhile and permanent.

In any case, they make great music together. Their sound is difficult to date or categorize, but it’s not the typical rock music you hear on the radio. It’s raw and very real. You know that they sound just as good in real life as they do on the cd. (It’s true. I sat in on a jam session or two earlier this year.) It feels to me a lot like some of Common Children’s early work. Listen to these four clips. Maybe you’ll hear what I mean. (My apologies for the brevity and crappy sound quality of these clips, but I just used a recorder to rip them off my computer. Besides, if you want to hear the real thing, you should go buy the CDs.)

Thread Atlas – At a Soldier’s Request
Thread Atlas – Confessor
Common Children – Blue Raft
Common Children – Indiscreet

There is no pop on this self-titled, debut album. There is nothing to make you feel especially pleased with yourself and your self-actualizing, purpose-driven life choices. It’s dark and engergetic, like an almost calm river with something violent and disturbing that you can’t quite see in the depths, but there’s hope as well. I can’t tell you exactly what these songs are about any more than I can tell you the heart of another man. (Hmm. Maybe I can get them to talk about that, too.) All I can do is try to relate my impressions. The cryptic, stormy lyrics–as deeply personal lyrics often are–seem to reflect the hardships, victories, and seemingly uncertain futures of the artists’. Only one of the songs are within the acceptable duration range of radio play, which suits me just fine.

“The Perfect Storm” feels tense from the beginning and gains energy until it decompresses in the middle and then winds up again. A couple of lines gave me chills: “Leaning up on his left side was a tribute to another man. Precise angles were bound together, fastened with iron bands. In a few places the wood was cracked as the nails were forced through the wood. Torn apart, the wood outlasts the man…” It’s a good song but seems to leave the listener wanting something. I don’t know what, though.

“At a Soldier’s Request” sounds like a spiritual soldier looking for his commander. “Lead me. I’m following. Tear this flesh that clings to this life, anything to open up my eyes. Someone to catch me, someone to lead me…There’s no stopping those that know…” This is a good song with lots of passion from start to finish.

“Apostrophe” is an instrumental with a bit of an accoustic-electronica feel to it, if there is such a beast. It really picks up in the last half, though.

“Intercession” is another instrumental. It reminds me of a conversation Marc and I once had in the rain. Marc, Brad, several other men, and I had spent most of a weekend together. It was fun and relaxing, then it was intense and exciting, then it was introspective, angry, joyful, and back to relaxing again. Toward sunset, we stood partly in the rain and partly under a porch roof while he told me something of his spiritual journey over the past few years and of the small part that I was privileged to play in it. I can almost hear the rain and Marc’s voice in this song.

“Confessor” is haunting and–like the rest of the album–dark, but ends on a note of hope. “She’s feeling the weight of the world, and the world’s getting colder….She’s managed to find within herself the very thing that she hates…” But later, “She’s come to find the meaning inside.”

You can listen to and buy individual Thread Atlas tracks at their MySpace page: ThreadAtlas.com. You can also buy the whole CD, but you might have to go to a show to get it. That’s great if you’re in the Brenham area, but, guys, what about the rest of the country?

I couldn’t find a web site for Common Children, but you can buy their CDs at Amazon.com. In my opinion, Delicate Fade and Skywire are their best collections.

Technorati Tags: thread atlas, common children, alternative Rock

This entry was posted on Friday, December 14th, 2007 at 9:23 pm and is filed under Music. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.