'aGkaanta, asRti, Parasamgate'by Joy of Nature

IF CDs were graded in accordance with their ability to come up with an original and innovative design, this one would win hands down. The jewel case and its special hand-numbered cards are enclosed in a little black pouch, complete with an intricate flowery motif made out of authentic fish-scales and a unique fastening that is rather like unbuttoning a mini-cardigan on your favourite cuddly toy to see if the manufacturers bothered to provide it with any genitalia ... but enough of my warped childhood fantasies, already! There are only 100 of these little beauties in existence and the release is designed to celebrate the first ten years of The Joy of Nature itself. This is the Portugeuse brainchild of a certain Luis Couto and previous releases have included 'The Fog That Life Is Haunted By' (2003 & 2006), 'The Shepherd's Tea' (2006) and 'The Shepherd's Tea at 7' (2006). Apart from a swift perusal of TJON on Myspace, I hadn't heard a great deal by this well-respected project and was keen to find out whether the music was a match for the impressive aesthetics. The title, 'aGkaanta, asRti, Parasamgate' is a Sanskrit phrase relating to the end of a theatrical performance, a certain forgetfulness and of going into the beyond. The images in the CD insert depict a woman picking her way through a subterranean chamber, flanked by shadowy trees and a discarded lute, whilst elsewhere she is seen walking naked beside fiery columns as a demon hides behind one of the stone pillars. The first of the album's 21 tracks, 'Introducao aos Bosques Escuros e aos Teatros do Mar' (meaning 'Introduction to the Dark Forests and the Theatres of the Sea'), is full of jangling wind-chimes, impending strings and the softly-spoken vocals of Ernesto Ferreira. The beautiful sound of a penny whistle drifts across the background, the complex but harmonious cacophony slowly making way for the unmistakable twang of a Jew's harp. It's an opening full of trepidation and suspense. Like a travelling carnival in a world of fantasy, 'A Theatre Burning in the Night Sky' continues in the same dramatic vein. Again, the instrumentation is numerous and labyrinthine, but all held together nicely by the enduring tin whistle. Whoops and yells are coupled with lyrics about a black sun in an endless sky. 'Enquanto o rio corre...' (meaning 'While the River Runs') is an amazing watery odyssey which is carried along by Ana Salome's tinkering piano and the sharp plucking of an acoustic guitar. As ever, Luis Couto's voice is full of sincerity, depth and strong emotion. Next comes 'The Twilight of the Old King II', its digeridoo swooping in like a low-flying aircraft before being replaced by a bowed psalter and drifting choral voices. 'Um Fogo na Nevoa' (meaning 'A Fire in the Mist') is more upbeat. A strumming guitar and lively chorus is joined by Nerunbrir's swaying viola and the gentle wheeze of J. Aernus's accordian. This is an outstanding exercise in contemporary Folk music and is one of the best tracks on the album. 'Uma Noite de Chuva no Jardim da Ilha Encatada' (meaning 'A Rainy Night in the Garden of Encatada Island'), meanwhile, sees the return of the viola from the previous track. In places, this - along with the guitar, tin whistle and drum - sounds remarkably like Planxty in their prime. There is a distinct Neofolk quality to the track, too, with some rainy samples thrown in for good measure. By the time we get to 'Persona II' it's still raining and Luis Couto opens his umbrella and decides to go it alone. Not that he can resist performing about eleven different roles, though, of course. This is a fantastic song, which, despite the breadth of instrumentation employed, as well as the passionate vocals, is often quite minimalist. 'The Book of the Dead' is a Tibetan dreamscape of nightmare proportions, with R.R.'s sampled contributions underlining the bellowing didgeridoo and Armenian duduk. This album just gets better and better. 'The Order Behind and Beyond All Things' is a very traditionalist title indeed, but rather than assume any recognisable form in and of itself, this track is performed as a shapeless ambience with peeling bells, drawn-out synths and slow violins. You can feel yourself becoming absorbed within the enticing layers of Nothingness. The wind-chimes from the very beginning are brought back into the fold during the tenth track, 'Fire Only Rests When There's Nothing Left To Burn', but this time we have an Indian flute and Rui Almeida's electric guitar to contend with. It works brilliantly, yet another original soundscape to induce and conjure up evocative images as you listen by candlelight with a glass of red wine in your hand. Well, that's how I did it, anyway, but it's certainly no exaggeration to say that Luis Couto has an uncanny ability to transport his listeners to another dimension. The dauntingly-titled 'Fantasmas e Duendes Costumavam Dormir no Meu Sofa, a Altas Horas da Noite. E Voltarao a Faze-lo' is almost as long as a song in itself and is very different to its predecessors because it was first released as a collaboration with Aquarelle. The Folk genre is put to one side now, as TJON and partners - along with Ana Salome's piano - become the vehicle for an excursion into the dark ambient world of throbbing electronics and a subversive tonal discharge. The TJON and Aquarelle team then launch into 'O Embalo des Sereias', with Antonio Feijo's violin and Mara Neves childlike vocals leading you on another imaginative outing that simply doesn't last long enough. Next we have Luis Couto's other project, Post Crash High, with a track called 'The World is Burning, so Let Us Walts' (sic). This is like a foot-tapping song from the Wild West that eventually stings your eardrums with its aural ferocity before calming right down and then returning to the cowboy-like strains of Hank Marvin on valium. 'A Lament for This Cursed Age' comes from the period when TJON was known as The Joy of Nature and Discipline, although it has been updated since the time it first appeared as part of the 'Falesia' compilation in 2007. The recurring infatuation with water makes a reappearence, as do the wind-chimes and various percussion samples. TJON&D are then joined by the aforementioned Post Crash High for 'The 'Glorious' Civilisation is Falling'. Bombastic drumbeats, three different guitars, chattering birdsong and even a hair dryer (!) are thrown together with an Irish harp to bring about a welcome return to the strong Folk themes which appear on the first half on the album. Fittingly, perhaps, and certainly in accordance with the title, there is even a funeral dirge right at the end. TJON&D's 'Spirals' - one of Luis Couto's earliest efforts - was composed with the assistance of Andre Franco and first appeared on the 'Nemeth' compilation as far back as 1999. Apart from the use of the transversal flute it's none too memorable and is fairly basic compared to the rest of the album, but it does serve to illustrate just how much progress Couto himself has made these last nine years. 'Boliana' is another Aquarelle collaboration and is a really spaced-out affair featuring some beautifully mellow guitar riffs that wouldn't be out of place on a Rock album. Aquarelle are there again for 'Fechando a Caixa das Memorias' (meaning 'Closing the Box of Memories') and Mara Neves adds a touch of vocal sublimity to the effortless folds of ambience with their endless synths and birdsong. TJON then return, alone, for 'Ecos que Mostram o Circulo' (which broadly translates as 'Echoes That Show the Circulated'). Here the electric guitar is full of vitriol, used in a similar way to that on 'Reign I Forever' by Blood Axis, and buzzes its way through a haze of barking dogs, heavy drones, indistinguishable chants, various splashing sounds, laughing children and horses. An acoustic guitar is brought in for 'Agora que Sabemos o que Faltava' (meaning 'Now We Know What It Lacked'), but the most interesting feature is the use of the adufe, an instrument with interesting Moorish origins which is covered with goatskin and tassles and shaped like a square tamborine. Again, this is quite Neofolk in terms of the vocals and the guitar, but more diverse and sophisticated. The final track, 'De Regresso aos Bosques, a Outros Bosques' (which means 'Of Return to the Forests, Other Forests'), sees TJON reunited with Andre Franco and his transversal flute. As the duduk washes over your consciousness it brings forth images of Pan creeping through the woodlands, of another plane of existence beyond the comprehension of most people. And this, I think, is what this album represents. Despite the ambient moments, it's not background music and needs to be listened to intensely in order to be understood and appreciated. It's a kind of musical gnosis for those who know how to use it wisely and the sheer effort that has gone into this composition is tremendous and must have been incredibly time-consuming. Meanwhile, The Joy of Nature have just released 'The Empty Circle Part One: Swirling Lands of Disquiet and Catharsis'. I can't wait to hear it.

Website: http://joyofnature.221design.com/