Pros: Packed with soothing, heavenly, compositions that fit well around the album's theme.
Cons: Very heavy on the slow, instrumental side of things.
The Bottom Line: Definitely more expansive and intricate than much of Iona's past work - takes a little longer to grow on you, but it is so worth the wait!
I've been waiting for my chance to write this one up. Iona, the British progressive rock band that never ceases to amaze me, has a general pattern of releasing an album in the U.K. and getting rave reviews, and then having ForeFront records release it in the U.S. a few months later only to get overlooked by much of the American Christian music scene. This time, the wait for Americans has been especially long - Open Sky came out in May of 2000 overseas, and over here, it's due in February of 2001. I, for one, was not going to wait, knowing the incredible compositions the band was capable of turning out, and so I ordered it direct from the U.K. But I have to say, after owning Iona's entire catalog so far and having listened to it extensively, I was not ready for this!
Of course, there were a few things I had to keep in mind - this was the band's first studio recording since 1995's Journey into the Morn, which was my introduction to Iona, and likely the band's most accessible recording so far (i.e. it contained the most tracks that would be playable on the radio). Since then, there have been a few lineup changes in the band - Terl Bryant, their amazing drummer, left the group, to be replaced by Frank Van Essen, who had been with Iona before Terl and somehow came full circle. Saxophone player Mike Haughton also departed, which accounted for a shift in the band's sound away from their beginnings as an experimental jazz project. Instead of finding a new sax player, they just added another instrument, since Frank Van Essen also knew how to play the violin. This new incarnation of Iona was present on their live recording "Woven Cord", but there were so many instruments in the mix on that one that we didn't have as much opportunity to miss the sax or let Frank show off his violin. Here, on Open Sky, we get both, and a few more unexpected twists that still add up to an amazing album.
Fittingly, the opening track on this album is Woven Cord. Hearing it without the orchestra was strange at first, but it works well at the beginning of this album, as if welcoming you back to the band after some fun little diversions. The song creeps up slowly, with a minute and a half or so of synths swirling around, building in anticipation until very suddenly the drums kick in with a good amount of power. Frank Van Essen is really in fine form on this one, thundering away with a methodical precision that seems a little more machine-like than Terl, but still amazes me. The song is a soaring drum-and-guitar anthem with Frank Van Essen and Dave Bainbridge at the front of the mix - they soar through a good nine minutes of variation of the main musical theme of "Woven Cord" before the music finally climaxes and falls away, and we get our first chance to hear a song with words.
And a fine song it is. Wave After Wave seems to showcase every side of who Iona is today, opening with Frank giving us a nice taste of his violin, and the Joanne echoing the same tune as she sings the opening lines of the song. Frank then switches instruments and the drums fade in, hammering out a curiously complex beat as Joanne makes her way through a gorgeous song about redemption and the idea of sin being washed away (at least that's how I read it). The rhythm may seem awkward at first, shifting from 7/8 to 6/8 for the bridge (which includes a fine flute solo from Troy Donockley) and back again, but it's a sweeping song that is at once calm and rocky, just like the waves it describes. Everything about this song is complex, even the lyrical structure - Joanne repeats some of the lines a few times, but there is no set verse or chorus, just three distinct melodies, plus the bridge. Then, it all comes to a close and washes away, as Joanne is once again left alone to sing the final lines: "music in every sound/Light beyond each cloud/Hope in every dream."
Open Sky begins like a ballad, and follows a more typical 4/4 pattern, but this song really gets going, shifting delicately from quiet to powerful and back again. So many different elements accentuate this song, most notably the acoustic guitar (or maybe it's a bouzouki?) played by Troy, which has an odd Middle Eastern twang to it, lifting Iona out of the Celtic world into another historic realm altogether. Frank chimes on on the drums for the second verse and then falls off again at the chorus, letting Joanne's lyrics (which are pure poetry carry the weight of the song on their own), and Dave brings in a dreamy electric guitar solo during the last half of the song. I have known many Iona fans to be moved to tears by this song. It describes a tree in Joanne's garden that has weathered storms and still stands strong, which is likely a metaphor for human suffering. The thought of this seems to remind Joanne of Heaven, the world up there in the "open sky" where all of it becomes worthwhile.
Castlerigg is definitely an interesting piece, one of Iona's trademark "trilogy" style compositions. It quickly establishes itself as the most Celtic-sounding track on the album with Troy playing some haunting pipes at the opening, leading into a very tribal rhythm with an Irish reel echoing off in the distance, getting closer and closer. This moves into a more lively section reminiscent of "Reels" from the band's first live album, but here Frank keeps the 4/4 rhythm in a fairly unorthodox, but definitely cool manner that always has me playing "air drums" on my steering wheel when I'm driving. Then it fades into a softer, acoustic guitar and violin driven section where Joanne begins to softly sing "We really cannot stay", continuing on this seeming theme of longing for heaven. The song picks up again after that, celebrating in another round of reels before finally coming to a close somewhere past the nine minute mark. A joyous and wistful celebration, but not for the faint of heart!
A Million Stars is a solemn but moving violin solo from Frank, backed by some very light keyboards. It doesn't stand out as much to me as it does to some people, but it definitely evokes the peace of a tranquil, starry night.
Light Reflected returns to a more normal song structure, seeming to set that tranquil sky in motion with its lovely piano and light percussion, and Joanne repeating, "I see light reflected". This song definitely considers God from a more modern point of view, acknowledging how small we are as our planet orbits the sun in such a vast universe. The sun seems to be a metaphor for God here, which reminds me of some of their older classics such as "Heaven's Bright Sun". It is a blinding light, but one that we desperately need to light the way. Once again, we get a soaring solo from Dave Bainbridge to close out an ethereal song that can sometimes make me feel like I'm floating weightless in space, marveling at the planets as I pass them by.
Hinba continues the grand Iona tradition of writing a song about a place they went to visit. It fades in with a simple guitar and Frank's violin, as Joanne begins to describe a trip in a rowboat to pray in a sacred place. It hearkens back to some of the songs from Beyond These Shores, which explored ideas such as finding solitude with God and letting God lead the way out into an unfamiliar place. Going even farther back, the musical mood definitely reminds me of the calm, flowing ballad "The River Flows" from the band's Book of Kells album. With all of the long, sweeping and complex tracks on this album, it does seem a little strange to have two right here that follow a more standard song structure. But that doesn't hurt the song, or the album, at all.
Okay, take a deep breath. We're plunging pretty deep into adventurous, non-pop territory now, with an over twenty-minute trilogy entitled Songs of Ascent, which is graciously broken down into three tracks for easier digestion. This part of the CD took me a while to get used to (the last time I heard someone try a three-song trilogy was on Sixpence None the Richers's self-titled album), but I'm glad I was patient with it. Remember those swirling synths I referred to at the beginning of the album? They run rampant through these three tracks, with a four-note flute line loosely tying everything together, as if calling your attention to the majestic arrival of something huge (sort of like in the movie Close Encounters of the Third Kind, but not as creepy). Not too far into Part I, the drums kick in, and Joanne sings a beautiful hymn-like song (this is the only time you'll hear actual lyrics until the last track, so enjoy them!) Certain lines shed light on their inspiration for other parts of the album ("From You cascades music like a million stars"), and the chorus is beautifully compelling ("An emptiness for You to fill/My soul a cavern for Your seal). It almost dares to sneak a peek at what music would be like in Heaven.
All too soon it fades out into Part II, which is almost a trilogy in itself. Here different melodies come to the forefront over the course of about nine minutes, including a break in the middle for the familiar flute theme, but also including some lovely mandolin at the beginning and a lullabye-ish piano at the end. This part of the trilogy makes me feel like I'm passing different planets, asteroids, stars, or whatever in space (once again!), amazed by each different sight but never losing focus on the gorgeous bright light calling me closer.
Finally, in Part III, a lilting guitar and some wordless vocals from Joanne build up to one heck of a confusing and amazing rhythmic section from Frank, during which Troy plays around with the melody Joanne was singing in Part I. I won't try to count out the meter changes for you here; you'll just have to keep backing up and listening for yourself! This finally comes to its own climax and fades out on a few more calls from the flute, and the long but stunning masterpiece is complete.
Joanne's voice leads you well into the final track, Friendship's Door, before you hear much of anything else. It's a slow track that didn't seem very interesting to me at first, because it seemed like an odd an uninteresting way to close the album. Joanne sings about all of the things that God has used to amaze her here on Earth, and it just seems like too much reality after the otherworldly "Songs of Ascent" trilogy. But then it hit me - the grand conclusion is that Heaven is here and now. That grand search, exploring the sky and the sea and floating through space, has led us right back to square one, where God was all along, except now we understand how to see Him in all of these things. I still get bored with this track sometimes, with its slow 4/4 programmed beat (which is odd for a band with such a cool drummer), but it picks up near the end with some pipes from Troy, and just as the song is fading off into the distance, several quick little clips from the other tracks on the album seem to fly by, as if we are turning over the memories of the journey in our minds. The very last thing you hear is Joanne's declaration from "Castlerigg": We really cannot stay.
Oh, but please, Iona, I beg you. Stay awhile. Stay forever!
TRACK REVIEW SUMMARY Excellent: Wave After Wave, Open Sky, Castlerigg, Light Reflected, Hinba, Woven Cord
Good: A Million Stars, Songs of Ascent Trilogy
Decent: Friendship's Door
Weak: NONE
Skippable: NONE
Band Members:
Joanne Hogg: Lead vocals, keyboards, acoustic guitar
Dave Bainbridge: Electric/acoustic guitars, keyboards, bouzouki
Troy Donockley: Uillean pipes, whistles, electric & acoustic guitar
Phil Barker: Bass guitar
Frank Van Essen: Drums, percussion, violin
Website: http://www.iona.uk.com
Great Music to Play While: In a deep state of meditation.
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