If you were to choose a contemporary folk band with whom to watch the sun go down and play a poetic lament for its passing, and then have the same band play a slow ballad for the beauty of its reappearance the following morning, one would struggle to find a better option than The Wooden Sky. Their new album Every Child a Daughter Every Moon a Sun is the result of the Toronto based band’s musing, pondering and fretting for the past three years. They have achieved that rare, beautiful blend of harmony between influences and very much deserve to be listened to.
The success of this album is rooted in the necessary indulgence of their mourning; the majority details questions that the band have asked only to find other questions and stories before others. Nearly all of the songs are exceptionally beautiful. You don’t have to listen to them at all, because they complement one another without standing out as odd inclusions. The band have had time to experiment with each other as musicians – a grade that separates the boys from the chaff – and they understand how to build songs from various textures that don’t compete.
A lot of the songs are initially guitar dominated and layer from there. “Bald Naked and Red” opens with a luxuriant, ponderous riff which speaks of open spaces and builds slowly but significantly doesn’t need to do anything other than what it does. Similarly with opener “Child of the Valley”, the music gently treads its way through its pathos and you will follow attentively. That’s the key with The Wooden Sky. They’ve worked with their sound for long enough to know exactly what to put in and leave out.
The majority of contemporary folk rock acts attempt to keeps the snobs hip and the hippies snobby, but this does neither and that’s why it’s so much better than the norm. The Wooden Sky don’t attempted to subjugate their experiences into songs that they know will work, but have created songs that tell their stories most accurately. The two rockier tunes, “It Gets Old To Be Alone” and “I’m Your Man” are the most incongruous of the lot as they’re the only two ‘angry’ numbers. But their inclusion is justified and certainly adds to the emotion saturated resonance of the album. If there’s any problem with the album it’s an occasionally tendency for singer Gavin Gardiner to veer mournfully into a mumble which reduces the overall power rather than electrifying the sorrow.
Every Child a Daughter… is an album to listen to whenever one has the awful realisation they’re being played by time but still believes that a mellow evening is as good as any defiance. It’s an album of songs that really deserve to be listened to whether with whisky, coffee or singly. It will make sad people happy and happy people sad and possibly neither group will fully understand each other.
Release: 8th October 2012, Loose