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UMC.org review- Carrie Newcomer: The Geography of Light
August 12th, 2008
by Steve Morley
Label: Rounder
Sound/Style: Diverse contemporary folk with ethnic elements and
philosophical lyrics
By its
nature, most popular music deals in oversimplification―life is happy or sad, it’s
either sunny or rainy and you’re either shouting "hallelujah" or
wailing the blues. If it’s subtler shades you’re after, they’re more likely to
be found in the folk idiom, where singer/songwriter Carrie Newcomer resides.
Newcomer not only sees the emotional colors that exist between black and white,
she makes a deliberate study of them on her challenging album The
Geography of Light.
Her
gentle and literate worldview bears traces of peaceful, post-hippie humanism
but is more notably informed by her Quaker faith. From the Quaker discipline of
silent worship comes the track "Two Toasts," a meditation on sound,
silence, and the places where the two seemingly exclusive experiences overlap.
("And in between the sound of words/ I hear your silent, sounding soul/
Where One abides in solitude/ Who keeps us one when speech shall go.")
"A
Map of Shadows" finds her vigilantly watching for the first flush of dawn,
a moment she transforms into a poetic device. ("Well, well, well, it's so
hard to tell/ There's a line between light and dark/ Between heaven and hell/
Well, well, well, it's not easy to see/ What's out there on my left or right/
Or what's right in front of me.")
These
regions of inbetweenness that Newcomer finds so fascinating range from the cusp
of personal change―which she describes as “nearly weightless”―to the notion of
life itself as a waiting room of sorts, as portrayed on "Lazarus."
The track picks up fictionally where the gospel of John leaves off, depicting
an alienated Lazarus who, having been raised by Jesus Himself, now longs
restlessly to again be near his Lord.
"Geodes"
considers the magical crystals inside the otherwise common-looking rocks that
pepper her
Similarly,
the lightly rocking "Where You Been" elaborates on the singer’s
belief that the voice of God can speak through the most unlikely vehicles at
the most improbable times. But uplifting pleasantries like this one are not the
norm, despite the radiant warmth of Newcomer’s full-bodied alto and the
tasteful acoustic textures provided by cello, violin and bouzouki on various
cuts. Her knack for seeing into the complex heart of things dominates the
collection, creating a twilight effect that touches both music and lyrics.
"You’d
Think by Now" is a sober lament about our inability to remove our own
blind spots, while "A Mean Kind of Justice" decries violence and war
even as it strains to affirm Newcomer’s belief in the inherent goodness of
humankind. ("There’s a goodness on this earth/ That will not die, will not
die/ It bears all, it’s seen it all, and still it survives/ And I know that we
have failed/ But I've seen that we can fly/ There's a goodness on this earth
that will not die.")
Newcomer’s use of spiritual concepts succeeds in depicting a world
where divinity coexists with day-to-day affairs. While this can be
faith-affirming, Newcomer’s personal slant on the subject may resonate more
with seekers and those with open-ended theologies than with hard-line
Christians. Still, anyone in search of well-rendered music packed with
emotional and philosophical insights will find in The
Geography of Light a map leading to illuminating treasures.