Much has been said of Katherine Blamire and Jessica Davies' combination of gritty blues and English folk. Concretely, this means whispered, husky, ethereal vocals, over guitars bright, trembling and sparse. Nick Drake comes to mind. Even REM's Peter Buck in his more delicate moments. In otherwords, it's more about mood, emotion, than technique. Undoubtedly, you've heard elements of the music on Through Low Light and Trees before, just not quite like this .
The opener “Summer Fades” captures the album. Blamire starts accompanied by only the faintest murmur of a viola. She sings:
“As summer fades to a watery light
and autumn's hues are coming to life.”
Then Davies joins her and together, with only the muted viola, they sing,
“Can we start something new
just me and you
through low light and trees a future unseen
is a future I can believe.”
The guitars come in on this last line. It is an invitation to a doomed love affair which plays the time of year against new passion. The effect is chilling.
Nature and emotions again co-mingle on the track “After The Rain”. Blamire sings over a picked guitar:
“I love the feeling,
after the rain
Feel just like a bird
You'll never see again.”
As writers, the pair understand the importance of a line break, and bring the dramatic effect of verse into song. The consolation of the nature image is twisted back to these darker themes of love's temporariness. Keeping it only as the voice and guitar makes it as private as recorded music can be.
Even when the instrumentation extends beyond the vocals and guitars the mix is such that drums and bass add colour, rarely dominating the songs. This is certainly the case on the second track “Devil In My Mind” with the harmonies snaking in out and the drum rising to subdue them. On the first single from the album “Hotel Room” the rock format is put to more traditional use. The guitars chug out a rhythm, the drum kicks in with some back beat, the bass keeps the low end in order. That's okay because rock songs rarely sound so matter of fact about desire. A casual encounter in the titular setting is summed up as such:
“Until this moment fades
Electric blue turns to grey
I'l take all that I can
Till the sparks fly through my hand
'cause it's just a hotel room
and we're only human.”
The bluesiest song is the slide dominated “Strange Moon Rising”, yet the vocals recall the moors rather than the delta. On the chorus it switches abruptly to something more delicate and lush without losing its haunting quality. This song highlights what makes their music so compelling is how the two get the blend just right. If you'll indulge an analogy, it's like feeling the soft earth behind and breathing the chilled air. It's an image accurately conveyed by the pair illuminated in the the headlights on a forest track on the cover.
In an album which posses such a pervading mood and signature sound it's hard to choose a stand out track. Blamire and Davies write clear distinct songs but the mood is so mesmerizing, so beguiling that I didn't find myself focusing on individual. Having said that, one piece has touched me more than the others. “Erie Lackawanna” is partly the story of train line the same name. Moreover, it is about loss, the loss of home, the loss of childhood. The song also showcases duos use of dynamism. The song begins at a whisper. Words just rise from the throat. Notes chime lightly. When they get to the refrain, “I can hear a wrecking ball coming for the house / See a wrecking ball come to tear it down.” thunders between the sweet verses.
The Erie Lackawanna train line, hotel rooms off freeways, devils and storms suggest a reheated Americana. Far from it. There is something deeply English about Through Low Light and Trees. I'm willing to accept that this interpretation stems from my own preconceptions about Englishness, or Englishness in music. The Smoke Fairies tap into that rich vein that goes back to Sandy Denny, the Incredible String Band and beyond to celebrate and evoke their land in song with rare luminosity and starkness.
