The Court & Spark – Ventura Whites
Despite being named after a Joni Mitchell album, The Court And Spark’s tribute to the folk giant is more subtle than those by, say, members of the Lilith Fair. Where Joni is moody, pointed, and dynamic, The Court And Spark is moody, low-key, and a little shy about elucidating their concerns.
On Ventura Whites, the San Francisco band’s first album, every-note-counts instrumentation, distinctive vocals, and gentle experimentation create a satisfying eight-song (plus hidden track) package. The quartet sounds a little bit like a lot of other countryish bands that set the scene for lolling about and ruminating on life itself: Palace, Souled American, and especially Rex. You can hear, too, echoes of dreamy indie-rockers such as Mazzy Star, and equally dreamy Led Zeppelinisms a la “Going To California”.
Carefully chosen instrumentation, including lap steel and slide guitars, Hammond organ, electric piano, banjo, dobro and mandolin, make for a consistent sound with consistent surprises. Ventura Whites begins with “Saturn City”, a vaguely ominous tune that showcases vocalist M.C. Taylor’s ability to sound weary, mysterious and authoritative, all at once. “Doctor, The Veranda” is a tale of baptism and murder that introduces the enigmatic harmonies of Wendy Allen, who should appear more often.
Two largely instrumental songs using taped sounds fit seamlessly among the others: one features dobro (“Dunedin, Dunedin”), and another (the title track) is simply student piano against an echoey recording of children spooking themselves on a playground. Three of the band members have been playing together for five years, and it shows; throughout, The Court And Spark find just the right keyboard sound, steel riff, or bit of silence, giving extra texture to what could have been standard alt-country.
The album’s air of enigma, along with its unflaggingly interesting musical touches, is what makes it worth listening to; the lyrics, hovering between storytelling and imagistic mood-setting, sometimes give short shrift to both story and feeling. “There are some things left better unsaid,” Taylor sings on “Sugar Pie In Bed”. That’s mostly true, but the band could let us in a little more and still have a firm grasp on life’s mysteries.