asentimentalsong

DRONE ALONE: The ambient minimalism of Lynchburg's asentimentalsong

By: MATT ASHARE |
Published: May 23, 2012 http://www2.the-burg.com/entertainment/2012/may/23

Who: asentimentalsong, Andrew Weathers Ensemble, Rachel Devorah Trapp

What: "Drones and Tones," featuring the photography of Anthony Krysiewicz

Where: Speakertree Records, 522 5th Street, Lynchburg

When: May 23, 8-11 p.m.

Cover: $3, call (434)485-8262

MINIMAL MAN: Morgan adheres to the less-is-more aesthetic

Dressed in a plain gray t-shirt and jeans, with a ring pierced through his lower left lip, guitarist Joe Morgan looks the part of your typical indie-rocker. But there's nothing particularly typical about Morgan, a 29 year-old Lynchburg native who graduated with a math degree from Liberty before going on to become the local district manager for Papa John’s. And there's certainly nothing typical about the music he creates, both alone, under the moniker asentimentalsong, and with his longtime friend/collaborator Nathan Mcgothlin in the duo the Late Virginia Summers. "Some of it gets pretty out there,” he admits with a shy smile over a late Saturday lunch at Mangia.

       What Morgan — who plays his first solo asentimentalsong show since last October tonight at Speakertree to celebrate the release of a new 10-inch single — means by "out there" isn't easy for to nail down. He likes to sum it up as "dronelife," an evocative if somewhat fuzzy term that aims to capture the minimalist aesthetic of his brand of abstract, instrumental mood music. It's an approach to composition that has its roots in the seminal experimental work of Brian Eno, whose solo recordings and close association with Roxy Music, Talking Heads, U2, and dozens of other artists over the past four decades have left an indelible mark on the sound of modern music and established him as one of the most visionary producers of the postmodern era.

       Eno postulated a style of music that he compared to perfume in its elusive, subtle, yet pervasive effect on sensory experiences. At its best, like the color scheme of a room or the architectural details of a space, it has the power to alter moods subliminally, even while standing up to close scrutiny by those who care to take notice. Morgan's "A Midsummer Night's Gleam," the 15-minute track that occupies one side of the new asentimentalsong 10-inch, is very much in that vein. It begins with what could be the sound of an orchestra tuning, coalescing on one chord that becomes the droning backdrop for quietly shimmering chords and, eventually, slowly moving melodic tones, the recognizable strum of a guitar, and, finally, a rising tide of undulating cross patterns that threaten discord before fading into quietude. There are no drums. And most of the guitars have been electronically treated beyond recognition.

       In the pre-digital era, it would likely have taken a battery of reel-to-reel machines and hours upon hours of cutting and splicing tape to create this sort of soundscape. Now, it can all be done at home on a laptop. And, while indie shops like Speakertree remain a crucial hub for experimental artists, the internet has opened up social — and artistic — networking opportunities for artists like Morgan. Indeed, back in January he toured the west coast with Parties, a group he formed with a friend from Texas (PD Wilder) and the like-minded California-based guitarist Andrew Weathers (who'll be bringing his own ensemble Speakertree).

       Here's some of what Morgan had to say about his ambient awakening, the inspirations for his songs, and the dronelife. . .

So, how does a math major who delivers pizza find his way to some of the more challenging underground music out there?

       My father was a musician, so there was always an acoustic guitar around. We mostly just banged around on it. But, when I was 15, I decided I had to have an electric guitar. I started playing with friends and I did a whole lot of playing and singing in church. I also had a pop-punk band for a little while, which kind of amuses me now. But I had stopped playing before I met Nathan in 2006. By then, a bunch of people had introduced me to music that got away from straight-up songs with vocals, and more into spacey instrumental music — Appleseed Cast, Labradford, Album Leaf. They were bands, but they had a more ambient bent. With a lot of them, the common thread is that you're listening to music that has to stand on its own without words. I mean, when you're listening to a rock song, the music could be so-so, but if you have a good storyline, it draws people in. When you don't have that, you have to be able to write music that is interesting all on its own. It can mean something to you based on whatever's going on in your life at the time, you know, something with a girl or if you're stressed out or whatever. I guess I just liked the idea that that song can be different for every person.

Do you have a narrative in mind when you record a track like "A Midsummer Night's Gleam"?

       I guess. That's hard to say. I don't know if it's so much an event that inspires it or if I want to create a particular mood or feeling with a piece. That track is meant to be bleak with a little bit of hope coming through. I guess it's hard to explain; it's really something you have to listen to and feel what you feel through it.

Then, is there a specific mood you're trying to evoke?

       Probably. But it's kind of up to the listener. If they hear it and they don't feel what I was feeling, then it's cool. That's why I don't want to sit here and define what you're supposed to feel. I mean, I have a song called "Winter" that, to me, felt like a blanket, like a warm place to be when it's cold out. But it's not a particular story that I'm trying to tell; it's just the way the song came together. And maybe it feels like something different to you. Maybe it's not interesting. I try to make it interesting to other people, but I don't know. To me, it's also important that it's slow-building and minimal; you listen to it full on and notice all the subtle shifts, or maybe you just have it on in the background while you're doing something else and it's just a soothing presence. I think Eno said that music should be both enjoyable and ignorable. I don't know if my own music is on that level, but it's something I'm working toward. I like the idea that you can pay as much or as little attention to it as you'd like.

There's something very generous about that. But isn't there also something a little selfish about making music to please yourself, regardless of whether it engages other listeners?

       Interesting question.nI would say at the core of it, it's somewhat selfish in that you're trying to make music that appeals to you. But I want to share it with people. If I don't play anywhere or release anything then what's the point? I want people to hear it, relax to it, feel something because of it. And, I'd like people to be into it and to buy it. You can start to think too much that it's all about the music and it doesn't matter whether anyone else likes it. But you can't do things if you don't make money — you can't travel to shows, you can't even make records. I'm just not sure I'd want to be in a position where I felt I had to do it to survive, rather than just doing it as a hobby. Would I love to be supported by music? Sure. But what would that do as far as the quality of it? I don't know.