FACEBOOK: https://www.facebook.com/Palmer-T-Lee-292792767448559/
Minnesota
born Palmer T. Lee, one half of acclaimed The Lowest Pair, steps out with his
debut solo album Winebringer. Lee
culled his inspiration for the album’s title from a collection of poems
entitled The Book of the Winebringer
composed by renowned Sufi poet Hafiz. The choice is deeply appropriate as a
decidedly poetic feel envelopes the album from the first and reflects the
introspective reach of Lee’s growing artistic powers. It likewise explores the
personal cost incurred from a particularly difficult time in Lee’s life without
ever finding the songwriting mired in obscurity. Instead, any discerning and
emotionally alert listener will connect with the material with little effort
and find the songs reveal deeper rewards with each new hearing.
The
album’s subject matter is rather traditional in a way – Winebringer’s nine songs are a searching appraisal of the love and
longing remaining following the end of a relationship. The intimate sound of
the release brings it close to you – “Rag” opens things with Lee’s voice and
acoustic guitar assuming a nearly spectral presence, but the lo-fi aspects of
the recording only serve to draw you further in. Lee’s poetics are
unquestionable, but the emotional tenor of his voice accentuates their quality.
The patient unraveling of the opener’s arrangement continues with the second
song “Aw Jeez”. Lee’s guitar work has no pretense of false virtuosity –
instead, it serves the material while demonstrating obvious skill and the
strain induced from ruined love comes through in its imagery and plain-spoken
pleading.
“Fat
Barred Owl” begins with particularly striking imagery never over-exerting
itself for effect and the music has a slightly faster tempo than we hear with
the album’s first two tracks. The guitar work is distinguished by some tasty
embellishments that never distract listeners from the lyrical material. The
album’s sixth cut, “Rice and Beets”, kicks off in ghostly fashion as Lee
ruminates over a dream scene with hushed wonder. His songwriting completely
brings us into the experience without ever overplaying its hand and, despite
running over seven minutes, never tests our patience. It ends appropriately
with a melancholy fade. Another high point arrives with the song “Moon You” and
Lee is joined by an additional voice with moving results. The arrangement,
likewise, moves beyond a reliance on his guitar work and bringing fiddle into
the mix helps strengthen the longing in the heart of the song.
The
album’s title song returns us to the customary marriage of Lee’s guitar and
voice. His vocals reach new heights here – he is unafraid to push his voice
hard in order to make the reality of his loss real for listeners and the level
of lyrical detail reflects this as well. Often times such material can prove to
be too much of a downer for us or, ultimately, self indulgent. There’s a
telling control, however, in Lee’s artistry illustrating his ability to laden
the tracks with significant detail and spare listeners any of the dross we
might hear from lesser performers. Winebringer
is an impressive achievement in every way from a songwriter, musician, and
artist who has found his stride despite immense pain.