j o n b

I have been an echolyn fan ever since I stumbled across a copy of As the World while scouring a discount CD/food/beer/cigs store in college (doesn't every college town have one of those places?). The quick shifting instrumental bits and overlapping counterpoint vocals were just my cup of tea. As bummed as I was when the band disintegrated following their association with Sony, I was equally thrilled when the band regrouped to produce a new album in 2000. To be honest, though, things had changed by the time Cowboy Poems Free saw the light of day and while it's a very good album, it couldn't quite match up to the best from echolyn's first phase. So when mei was in the pipeline to be released last year, I was interested but not completely excited. Once I heard mei, all that changed. It grabbed me from the very first listen and hasn't let go since. It was the best release I heard in 2002. mei contains just one track, clocking in at almost fifty minutes long. It's quite an ambitious gambit, without even subsections to act as a guidepost along the way, for either listeners or the band. The fact that it holds together extremely well, both musically and lyrically, is a testament to how far these guys have come from their debut in 1989. This is not a mere cobbling together of a lot of disparate bits to form a large whole — this truly is one massive work. Musically, the music here (as with Cowboy Poems Free) sounds less complex and busy that earlier echolyn. In truth, I think it's just less flashy. The numerous layers and the skillful transitioning from section to section and mood to mood are seamless. The small chamber orchestra adds texture, not only to the gentle, acoustic opening and closing moments, but even when the band cranks it up. This is symphonic prog, to be sure, but it is no pale Yes or Genesis imitation. echolyn have found their own voice and continue to develop it. Speaking of voices, the trademark three-part harmonies, some lush and layered and others overlapping in counterpoint style, are there in large doses. One interesting thing is that there is a comparative lack of instrumental solos, particularly compared to other traditional prog epics. Chris Buzby gets a chance to lay down some tasty synth licks here and there, but is more often found maintaining a diverse background of organ and piano, including a lot of time for his yard-sale-bought Wurlitzer electric piano. Brett Kull only takes one true guitar solo, that I remember, and it is wonderfully restrained and textured. The echolyn web site refers to mei as a combination of Kerouac and Dante, a modern road story. The lyrics seems to tell a story of longing, despair and, ultimately, hope. Those themes are enhanced by the use of both Kull's and Ray Weston's lead vocals. Kull's sweeter, more plaintive sections, contrast with the anger and bitterness that is conveyed by Weston's. In the end, it's hard to describe mei in traditional terms. It is a massive chunk of music that must be heard as a whole to be appreciated. It is a classic. review by Jon Byrne — 1-12-03 —

j o e

I got a chance to drive alone across the U.S. last summer, something I've always wanted to do, and I loved it. Maybe it's because I am abnormally entranced by classic road movies like Easy Rider and Two-Lane Blacktop. But for me, there's a sense of freedom and spirituality to long drives. Something about long road journeys, the interplay between landscape, weather, and mood, gives you an ideal setting (and certainly ample time) to stop and think about your life and the world that surrounds you...the deserts of Spokane, the forgotten anytowns in Montana, the urban rush of downtown Chicago. I wish at the time of my trip I had this disc, which would have been more than perfect accompanying music. Mei is an ambitious, one-track epic influenced by the writings of Kerouac and Dante. Echolyn's sound as evidenced here has noticeably matured, considerably less flashy than during their As the World period. This works better specifically in this instance, as the content of this album would probably not be served well with the more ostentatious approach of "As the World" or "My Dear Wormwood." More generally speaking, it sounds like the band is spending less time on sounding like the typically flamboyant band that moves in prog rock circles, and devoting more time to expressing its own, inner voice. This epic flows with the best of 'em, a collection of individual songs segueing into one another, with some tying together of themes at the end. The folky, acoustic moments are handled on vocals by guitarist Brett Kull, and the angrier, electric sections are handled by Ray Weston. The latter avoids the territory of alterno-rock popularized by Pearl Jam (not a sound I'm fond of) through Chris Buzby's layering of classic keyboards, including some tasty Wurlitzer lines, and his chamber ensemble orchestrations. Mei is a very rich album, with the road as a metaphor for that obsessive theme of prog, the spiritual quest, and themes of struggle and identity. The photography in the CD booklet features desolate areas and man-made structures. If this is beginning to sound too much like Camel's Dust and Dreams, I would say that Mei is more cryptic, its obscure lyrics blending images of nature and mythic America with a confessional style. Is the narrator relating his words during a routine business trip away from home? Is he reflecting back on a family he is in the process of abandoning? Several scenarios come to mind, though they are never confirmed, nor do they really need to be, allowing for a unique connection with each listener. For me, when Kull sings "I am part of the peripheral scene, that shines like cathedral glass" and Buzby's Hammond arrives, simulating a pipe organ, I thought of the handful of lonely, rural churches bordering near the woods I saw in my drive, or the protagonist in Red Badge of Courage finding the dead soldier in the wooded area with the shape of a chapel. It is uncommon to find albums with such evocative, stream of consciousness power. There are a few moments in the work that are merely there to me, as I guess is to be expected in an almost 50-minute piece. But I would say that the first fifteen minutes especially ranks among some of Echolyn's finest work to date. Even if not to one's tastes, Mei is one of those albums that nonetheless commands one's respect; a deeply personal statement that reaches in, past the literal and self-apparent. As the great Warren Oates said in Two-Lane Blacktop: "Those satisfactions are permanent." review by Joe McGlinchey — 6-7-03 —