*european manufactured 180 gram lp housed in a stoughton old-style jacket with j-card style obi. limited edition of 1000.

the poet william butler yeats once observed that “you can refute hegel, but not ‘song of sixpence,’” and on this new record jack rose supplies the proof, unspooling landscapes made entirely out of wire, where the simplest melodies become mesmerizingly complex.

except, this isn’t quite the new jack rose record.

ok, it is. sort of.

originally a cd-only release, and originally only released because scott slimm pestered jack for something for his incredible archive label, it occupies a curious place in the rose oeuvre, falling in the interstice between live performance and deliberate studio recording, a sketchbook or a progress report, a dispatch from the front or a postcard from an old friend on a long trip. on these recordings, Jack takes bigger chances and makes bolder strokes, and the results are ragged but right – a craftsman deep in his craft and deepening it. just give a listen to his haunting variations on “st. louis blues,” or the uncanny, extended, blotter-acid raga “spirits in the house.” you’ll see what I mean.

perhaps because these are rough drafts for a forthcoming collection of duets, there’s a lot of solitude in these songs – like dropping a pebble down a well and counting the seconds till you hear a splash, only that splash is a long time coming back and you feel a little spooky. A duet for one is an inherently mysterious entity, with a palpable absence built-in to it, a ghost in the grooves.

but haints are sort of like saints, geists are a bit like guests, and visions are really visitations. So be sure to leave a light on, and an empty seat at the supper table, just in case. company is coming.

REVIEWS

KEITH FULLERTON WHITMAN/MIMAROGLU MUSIC SALES

theoretically a “reissue” of the archive-label jack rose “untitled” disc - but that’s only figuring said disc was ever really available to begin with (mms had copies available for about a day a few months back...)

as jack sheds his fahey-worshipping skin, i find myself getting more and more amped about each subsequent release - first it was the change-ringing 7” on tequila sunrise and now this one; recorded davey graham style in someone’s house / in concert / at home in september 2006 (for the most part.)

this is prime material; jack herein working a slide/travis combo that’s ridiculously solid - his right right-hand timing is so on right now...although there are a few detours into more free-form styles (check the sound-sample of a piece delving into brij bhusan kabra territory - modal slide excursions over a tanpura-like tonal bed - at least at the end there) that make the record for me...

EDWIN POUNCEY/THE WIRE

a key figure in the new american primitive movement that has developed since the death of john fahey, this reissue from virginian guitarist and pelt member jack rose previously surfaced on the archive label. one could almost mistake it for fahey himself, displaying a similar ease and knowledge of the music on blues standards like wc handy’s ‘st. louis blues’ and blind willie johnson’s ‘dark was the night’. more intriguing, however, is ‘spirits in the house’, where rose handles his acoustic guitar like a sitar with a stream of coiling notes and exotic tonal colour. this self-titled album is more like a sketchbook than a fully formed new work, but reinforces rose’s reputation as one of this century’s finest guitar players.

SCOTT MOU/OTHER MISIC

Philly's Tequila Sunrise borrows another rarity from the Archive label, and as you may or may not know, this is hardly a reissue since the Archive CDs are made in such limited, small runs. Maybe call this a "Continuation" or "Part II" or "Collector Nerd Rebate!" It all works out for the common good in the end, as this time around there are 1000 copies of this vinyl-only pressing. Aside from the typically great packaging and production values (European manufactured 180 gram LP housed in a stoughton old-style jacket with j-card style obi), Jack Rose's self-titled record sports great cover art and is probably the most distinctive recording from the guitarist yet.

There's all kindsa talk about the Jack Rose/John Fahey connection, that whole shared raga/melancholy bluegrass vibe, but we all basically agree that Rose is at his best when he does his own thing and stretches out a bit. That's what happens on this LP. Strength. Slashing precision. Lotsa muscular lapsteel raga jams, climbing and clamoring towards nirvana. Did ya seem him live recently? This record reminds me of his recent OM in-store appearance where he jammed a little harder than I expected without missing a beat and wrung the dipping, sitar notes for all they were worth. Get it while it's hot and while its still here.

DOUG MOSURAK/DUSTED MAGAZINE

Vinyl reissue of an aRCHIVE cd, documenting Rose’s skittish but ongoing affair with Fahey-esque guitar folk/feats of strength. Rumor has it that this material was begrudgingly documented for its initial release, which makes very little sense. What it really does is showcases a traditional, skill-based side of Rose’s idiosyncratic guitar super-ability separate from his group Pelt. I’d have to guess that he didn’t want to make some slavish paean to something which most consummate musicians might want to hold closer to their chests, but it’s a beautiful album, passionately recreating folk and raga within strict Appalachian confines. Rose’s playing is exquisite, mannered, and warm. Edition of 800 in a beautiful tip-on sleeve with obi strip.