A regular, if somewhat under-the-radar presence on the Chicago scene, British-born guitarist/vocalist
James Elkington
makes fluid, harmonically layered folk that draws on the progressive style pioneered in the '60s and '70s by artists like
Bert Jansch
and
John Fahey
. It's a style he previously investigated alongside fellow guitarist
Nathan Salsburg
on several albums and which found him working as a sideman for respected rock luminaries including
Jeff Tweedy
Richard Thompson
. It's also a sound he spotlights on his evocative, gorgeously rendered debut album, 2017's
Wintres Woma
. Old English for "the sound of winter,"
envelops you like a warm wool blanket on a dark, snowbound evening.
Elkington
has a woody, naturalistic voice that fits well with his introspective style. However, it's his adept fingerpicking, lithe fretboard skills, and inventive harmonic structures that impress the most here. Whether backed by a cadre of genre-crossing talents including violinist
Macie Stewart
, cellist
Tomeka Reid
, bassist
Nick Macri
, and percussionist
Tim Daisy
, or playing solo, as he does on a delicately rendered version of the traditional song "The Parting Glass,"
creates a warm, deeply nuanced sound that's at once traditional and forward-thinking. Primarily, these are all original compositions and have the same new, yet strangely familiar feeling that some classic artists like
Nick Drake
,
Robert Wyatt
, and
Ralph McTell
are able to conjure. Some cuts, like rambling lead-off "Make It Up" and the waltz-like "The Hermit Census," have a winding, circular quality that improbably combines a rootsy singer/songwriter lyricism with a vibe influenced by the contemporary classical composition of
John Cage
. Others, like the magical "When I Am Slow," reveal yet more of
's broad stylistic palette as his resonant traditional folk guitar lines spiral outward into Middle Eastern-tinged melodies. Ultimately, it's these small, inventive epiphanies, like staring at images in swirling snow, that make
such an unexpectedly transcendent delight. ~ Matt Collar