In keeping with the albums he’s released recently under his given name (following nine full-length albums under various project names), Fletcher Tucker continues to “explore rationality – aural and poetic expressions of his ever deepening relationships to place, ancestors, ceremonial practice, and kinfolk (human and more-than-human)” on his latest album, Kin, according to the press materials. Residing in Big Sur, California, Tucker uses a foundational palette of “breathing” instruments – Swedish bagpipes, pump organ, elder and bamboo flutes, Mellotron saxophone and flute tapes – alongside chanting and other meditative tactics, to “exhale enchantment back into the living world”.
In short, Kin is about the Earth and our relationship with it. Assisting Tucker are Chuck Johnson on pedal steel, Mariam Wallentin on voice, Phil Elverum on drums, Sean Smith on bass, synthesizer, and drums, and Spencer Own on drums and Mellotron. The execution veers from occasionally frantic to often warm and static – call it “drone folk”.
Opening with “A Candle”, a song that was inspired by Tucker jotting down the phrase “flute pulse”, a repetitious bamboo flute forms the base of the composition as the band joins in and Tucker and Wallentin chant: “With my face pressed to the fecund earth / Water dripping from Juniper and birch / Crawling on my hands and knees along the unlit trail / Raven calling from a hollowed snag.” The earth is not only referenced; it’s positively and rightfully respected.
“Great Flowering Mind” takes a different approach. While the chanting is still present, the music has slowed down to a simple, beatless drone, with percussion and synthesizers providing the perfect accents. By contrast, “Pregnant Emptiness” is a simple, instrumental meditation, as if Tucker is instructing us to cool down, open our minds, and welcome the simple, primitive beauty of the earth. A bed of bird sounds helps to keep the atmosphere authentic, mixing with the simple execution of the instruments.
“Only Dancing” uses a frantic, but warmly dulled, bed of percussion for Tucker to chant over. The cacophony that lies beneath the track initially seems out of place, but this may simply be an acknowledgment of nature’s complexity, lying beneath the beauty.
“To Light a Fire”, arguably the record’s centerpiece, combines acoustic guitar, warm washes of synthesizer, Mellotron, and brief clatters of percussion against the vocals, moving through a variety of phases to create something of a symphony for the earth. The bright twinkle of drums and chiming guitars highlight the gentle, elegant “Born Back to Earth”, and while the sustained chords bring a meditative warmth to the closing track, “The Breathing Night”, the atmosphere that’s conveyed sounds uncannily like the earth taking deep breaths.
Kin takes cues from ambient, outsider folk, and new age, but as one coherent piece of music, it sounds like absolutely nothing else. Fletcher Tucker has created, along with his small group of fellow musicians, what the press release refers to quite accurately as “moments of radical clarity and aliveness in the wild; feral Zen philosophy; and an ornate description of Tucker’s syncretic altar.” Kin is an album to be experienced wholly and without the distractions of the everyday world.