There is something vaguely disconcerting of feeling like you are stumbling upon a ritual that you were not invited to. But once you find yourself there, the participants don’t so much as ignore you, but just go on about their strange and haunting business. Maybe there is a nod of recognition that someone else has entered the grove, but you are welcomed simply by not being asked to leave.
You seem to be able to discern, that something is being exorcised, but it’s all happening with a quiet and subdued kind of dignity. There is no flailing about, no objects are being tossed around, nothing is sacrificed. But there is intention, and despite the ramshackle method, there is dignity.
Alongside the exorcism, there is invocation of something that lives among the group. Nothing so lofty as a god, but maybe the minor spirits that inhabit the crevices of stones.
And then there is celebration, among friends and brethren and the ritual becomes festival.
(By the way, Songs of Shame is the new album by Woods, and it’s all that is good about what can often go wrong when psychedelia meets folk out in the forest.)
--Woods: to clean
--And you can buy it here
No comments:
Post a Comment