Incredible String Band- Incredible String Band

About a month ago, I received a call from a friend of mine who I hadn't seen in a little bit but have been trying to meet up with. Unfortunately, he called with bad news- a mutual friend of ours, John, had passed away. I was quite devastated, not because he was a particularly close friend (I hadn't spoken to him in over a year), but because he was such an ebullient spirit. He was that guy who I always assumed I could run into and chat it up and all that jazz, and now he's dead. (Adding to the misfortunate, his band was on the verge of making the national indie circuit- his death was picked up by Pitchfork and the NY Times) I had played a couple of gigs with him and a friend of ours opening for me, and always was impressed both by his musical chops, his invention, and his general style- sort of folky, reminiscent of the style of young, detached literate intimate songwriting that acoustic indie has attempted to take up lately, though my friend focused on the brightness instead of the dourness available in the genre.

The reason I bring him up is that one of the last times I ever spoke to him, after one of our shows together, he mentioned the Incredible String Band. I had heard of them, but not heard anything by them. At the time (and still now), I had a serious jones for anything in the late 60's folk-genre that spanned Nick Drake and Fairport Convention, and so this band seemed right up my alley. He mentioned that he'd rip them for me, but considering my group and his group rarely crossed paths, I assumed it wouldn't happen, and it, with a somber air of finality, didn't.

A couple of weeks ago, about a year and a half after he promised me the CDs, I acquired the Incredible String Band's debut CD through lala.com, the used CD trading service. As soon as I got it and heard one note, I was doubly reminded of my friend. Not just because of his recommendation, but because I now understood where his sound was indebted to. The Incredible String Band, at least in this incarnation (their lineup and sound changed heavily over time), is a barebones "folk" group. I hesitate to call them folk, though I don't particularly know what to call them other than themselves. They certainly aren't in the folk-pop vein which was massively popular at the time (1966) thanks to Peter, Paul and Mary, but they aren't exactly traditional folk, playing all original material and staying outside of the stylistic strictures imposed by Joan Baez and the New Lost City Ramblers, though their playing style leans heavily towards a more traditional sound. It sounds like a couple of guys interested in the swing and sound of folk and playing off its more difficult, resonant edges.

This is not to suggest a particularly difficult album to grasp, though. The songs are quite ebullient, perfect for two guys to play with 20-25 friends watching them. Songs like "Dandelion Blues," "Can't Keep Me Here," "Footsteps of the Heron" and "Everything's Fine Right Now" are imbued with almost-too-effortless melodies, "Maybe Someday" grabs you with its Eastern-tinged timbres, and songs like "The Tree" expertly mix the jocular with the skillful. The technical chops, the songwriting inspiration, and internal confidence in the material all gush forth throughout every single note of this all-too-short album.

One of the great ironies to me in listening to this album is that, in the decade preceding this album, the great debate in folk circles was which direction the music should pursue- one staying true to authentic styles (or as true as white collegiate kids could approximate) or one that sheared off the rough edges for popularization. By the time the Incredible String Band debuted, folk music had come from "Tom Dooley" to "Desolation Row," and folk music had numerous stars, whether enthusiastic or uneasy. Yet the Incredible String Band was one of the few who actually seemed to use authenticity correctly (if such a thing can be done) by being authentic to themselves. The music is for them, for their friends, and for whoever wanted to join the fray. John's music (not counting that which was enveloped in his bands) reflected this to a tee, wearing the confidences and postures of a confident, musically adept, literate college kid singing like he's always felt he should. I have too many musical aches and regrets, but one of them is not being around to hear these guys play intimately 40 years ago. Or actively getting those CDs from John and talking to him just a little bit longer.