With last year taken up with a triptych of expansive Harvest Man albums released to coincide with each new moon, the irrepressible post metal pioneer Steve Von Till might have been expected to take a sabbatical and re-charge, but no. Here we have ‘Alone In A World Of Wounds’ a new solo album recorded in his own name, his seventh collection of soul scouring gothic Americana, acoustic songs powered by the same ingrained melodic strength and natural integrity which has been at the core of all his work.
Following on from the slow core neo-classical drama of ‘No Wilderness Deep Enough’ and its instrumental sister release ‘A Deep Voiceless Wilderness’ three years ago, ‘Alone In A World Of Wounds’ sees less familiar beings enrich the Von Till sound world, the cello, the French Horn and pedal steel getting welcomed in alongside the synths, guitars and electronics. Such gentle expansiveness is evident from the get-go, instilling opener The Corpse Road with a soft hymnal power. The song is reverently processional but purposefully unadorned, just Brent Arnold’s fluttering cello, the mournful French Horn of Eric Davis and Von Till’s deep mining vocal enough to make a statement. “We collide our stars and leave soul sized holes” he sings, introducing a key album theme, the abuse of our place in the natural world, and revealing an emotional depth in his voice tinged with aging wisdom.
It’s Von Till’s vocal expression throughout ‘Alone In A World Of Wounds’ which is pivotal to the album’s dynamic impact. He admits during the recording of this music to have been inspired “to sing out more, to seek out the implied harmonies, and to find unique approaches within the limitations of my voice”. This set certainly proves that point. Here we have Von Till seeking his inner Lannegan or Gira and shaping a delivery that’s distinctive, every line closely considered and resounding with gentle authority. On Watch Them Fade his poetic gravitas brings a vastness to essentially a simple, sombre song. Here no more than that voice, a minimal piano pattern, soft heartbeat pulse and the circling grace of watchful strings is needed to draw you inside. There’s a similar, hypnotic sparseness to Horizons Undone although with a delicate twist in the tail. At first pared back to stoic piano chords and rippling synth lines, the song finally blooms with a surge of strings, twinkling guitars and the surprise of Von Till’s near falsetto hum. Sounds unlikely, potentially awkward but the sincerity and commitment to the message makes Von Till’s balladry authentic and openly real.
From his seminal doom metal beginnings with Neurosis through to the experimental charge of Tribes Of Neurot and onto his solo work, Von Till’s music has always stood out because of its carefully woven layering. ‘Alone In A World Of Wounds’ is no different except on this album the threads combine to make something more giving and pliable. When writing these new songs he moved away from the guitar to a more piano/keyboard approach and this has allowed him space to broaden his soundscape and, in Von Till’s words “to sing into these lush beds of sonic texture”.
The album’s pivotal track Calling From The Darkness thrives within such spaciousness. This long form epic excavates loss and departing, an allegoric song where the personal and the moral blend within a musical fusion of Walker-esque and Godspeed fullness. As the atmospheric clatter of distant machinery intensifies, the haunted piano, yearning cello and weeping pedal steel sigh with increasing desperation. Von Till’s vocal delivery brings a crucial dramatic edge to the song. As he tells us “She handed me the poison, I took it …….. willingly”, the long deliberate pause brings the perfect chill.
Such lyrical power is an essential part of ‘Alone In A World Of Wounds’ magic and it’s a credit to producer Randall Dunn’s sensitivity that Von Till’s poetry is nourished within the album’s soundtrack. The post-rock noir of Distance retains a poignancy amidst the more familiar tones, where the drums swing slow, acoustics strum and fuzz chords punctuate. While that emotive French Horn sways in with an undertow of melancholy, Von Till confesses emptily at one point “Words are as weary as weapons – stand them down“. That’s some scary proposal from the most literate of song-writers as he makes a last-ditch appeal for a different way forward.
The final songs on ‘Alone In A World Of Wounds’ continue to plead for change. On The Dawning Of The Day (Insomnia) Von Till lays down the choices, part spoken/part sung to the minimal descent of piano notes and the cello’s clutching harmonics. “Will the day be of weeping ,of teeth, of indifference, surging forward or lying dormant” he wonders. During the eerie electronic drone of Old Bent Pine there are chinks of hope as the reverb guitars toll but perhaps the closing River Of No Return brings clearer resolution framed within its brilliantly simple melodic thrust. Nothing more is needed besides stately reverb guitar, the elegiac reach of Arnolds’ cello and Von Till’s achingly honest vocal. “ I’m standing here feet on the ground/ ‘The hunters moon stares me down / We’re standing here in mystery/ without you where would I be” he wonders in this slowcore moment of wonder.
You probably wouldn’t say that ‘Alone In A World Of Wounds’ is an album which immediately seizes the attention. It needs time to seep in, a multi-dimensional work of entwined meanings and emotions, songs about loss and lament, possibly personal, probably universal, songs to a long-gone friend or for all of us listening in. Von Till is once again dealing with complex issues here and does so through music that’s taken back to the essentials. Now that takes some real mastery.
Get your copy of ‘Alone In A World of Wounds‘ by Steve Von Till from your local record store or direct from Neurot Recordings HERE
