It's Bruno's hearty but wistful
voice, cousin to a yowl, which helps bring these minimal folk ideas
to surprising heights. Accompanied only by a longingly stroked and
plucked electric guitar, he assembles poignant and subtly infectious
fragments which carry you straight to an
early-morning campfire in the deep wild (with a mini-generator for
the amp). Twenty-three songs is a bit much to follow Bruno through,
however, and even ardent listeners will likely begin to lose
enthusiasm about halfway through. As such, Mike is, perhaps, victim
to his own ambition. Yet In Memory deserves
recommendation because –
put simply –it
hosts several memorable songs; and,
after all, nobody is forcing the listener to absorb it all in one
sitting. In terms of this album's strengths, one need not wait long
to encounter certain gems – the disc's strong opening track is
delightfully haunting, while roomy “Song for the Dead” is three
minutes of heartrending longing with a smart melodic turn near
track's end, though Bruno's piercing
vocals can become grating (to put it lightly). Even more sublime is
the tambourine-laced record highlight “Fairytale Lives,” with its
downright infectious chorus, as well as
brilliantly mournful “Summer Song.”
A wade further into the album reveals several other treats (“Reggityanne,”
“Crawlin' Skin,” "Hallowe'en
Song") as well as some lesser songs (“Harvest,” “Catholic
School Boys & Girls,” “Falling Down a Spiral Staircase”), but the
sum of In Memory's parts
amounts to an unjustly obscure gem of a
record which makes up for its inconsistency by way of several
evocative, melodic highlights. The less tolerant listener may want
to avoid those songs which feature Bruno's voice at its most
piercing, but the bulk of this record
offers remarkably accessible appeal.
