Barnaby Weir is a man of many musical hats. His unique voice can be heard through his live collaborations with Fly My Pretties, and his work with the ever-popular Black Seeds has led to many a summer-defining moment…
Barnaby Weir is a man of many musical hats. His unique voice can be heard through his live collaborations with Fly My Pretties, and his work with the ever-popular Black Seeds has led to many a summer-defining moment.
In this regard, Weir’s turn toward the apparently-despised genre of country music is an adventurous one, displaying the high level of musicianship and depth of song writing we should only expect from one of the more important players in the current New Zealand music scene.
First (and title) track, “Tarot Card Rock” dishes out its share of home-on-the-range goodness, with its country vibes immediately defining the record’s sound. The crystal ball humour of the song is allowed to shine through its surfy-wurf doo wops, organ solos, and tremolo-laced guitar work – the line: “I never thought when we first kissed/your tender lips would taste as good as this” is a definite highlight!
The cowboy-pop is further developed through the childhood memories of “Old Friend”.
The track’s hoe-down harmonies speak of escape “back to the lake where we used to swim,” “far away from the drunks and the fights in the city” – with its golden-eyed throwbacks to youthful jubilance guaranteed to cause some sort of nostalgic vision for the listener.
Though much of the record borrows from the heartache and heartbreak of middle-American songwriters such as Jonny Cash and Ryan Adams (amongst countless others), it isn’t all steel-guitar swooning. The pining breakup ballad, “Till We Get Over” mixes things up with its soulful rhythm and blues (and Eastern-European-inspired piano accordion solo?). The line, “it’s gonna take some time till we get over/I’m still yours and your still mine till we get over”, is a bit of a tear-jerker.
“The Cranmore Cull” is a folk-laden instrumental ballad, with its Green-Isled fiddles laying out a haunting breather from the heavy subject matter of the album. This Celtic vein continues in the earthy moral tale, “What You’ve Missed”, which speaks of living with no regrets (“it would be a shame to wake up at the end and realise what you’ve missed”). Both “Sunset Blues” and “Let Me Slide” have a 70s classic rock feel to them, with obvious inspiration taken from psychedelic-giants such as Jimi Hendrix and David Gilmour. The Elvis-inspired surprise in final track “I’m Coming Home” provides a nice endnote to what is a stylistically diverse record.
Beyond the music, the disc’s album art pushes the bar creatively – a much required attribute in this age of rapidly declining CD sales (and rise of digital downloads).
The ‘liner notes’ consist of a series of tarot cards, which combine photography, stock imaging, and good quality design emphasising the themes of luck, birth, love, and death weaved throughout the record.
The music-with-art is a complete package, and provides a feeling of wholeness to the album. It’s a good experience, and I wouldn’t suggest listening to Tarot Card Rock any other way.
In saying that, through looking at Weir’s history, the live version would probably be a lot better.
Written by Theo Sangster 10 March 2011.
Leave a Reply