My Kappa Roots (aka Pablo Clark) slips out a quiet debut from the Scottish area still known as the Kingdom of Fife. As an opening interrogative stance the question of whether Kappa refers to a Japanese river imp or the 10th letter of the Greek alphabet and all its variants halted appreciation, so I leave it untrammelled. While all tracks are Clark’s, the recording and mixing are contributions of James King who also contributes melodica/keyboard/sounds/backing vocals and ceremonial bell. The distinction made that while Clark’s guitar and vocals are foregrounded in the mix and the focal aspects of the album, it is the production aspects that glimmer as well. However, as might hold within the folk singer-songwriter tradition, it is the poetry of the lyrics that maketh the art and not necessarily technical prowess. I will leave you with that old chestnut to roast and eat in your own time.
Songwriting as poetry is the realm here, aptly assisted by Clark’s soft and melancholic lilt. The paradox of the comfort of melancholy is as apparent here as in any recording of such as Nick Drake. Quite odd yet beguiling guitar technique Of Narcissus waits by the water, that builds, sparkles, backtracks, resonates and yet manages not to quite get its feet wet. Home-coming, the bleak resonance of worn warriors returns, black sails all, cause lost, dead pan voice intoning the seeming bluster of the warrior stance, ballad like intoning lessons for the world weary. A query for the cause/activist world whose point it the battle, the cause, the rights to be won when the battle is never over and the distant land a place you arrive dead of memory. All reading can lead to over interpretation and apt as any are prone to such, it is the mark of a talented artist to enliven the mind to enquire not merely of their own expression but of concepts built within the vehicle.
Clark’s guitar technique is blithe and inventive within a classic folk palate yet has not the assurance or range of a master guitarist. Yet who could ask for a master guitarist from a debut album, perhaps only perfectionists lacking the courage to make first steps. The presence of sounds/samples and the recording technique tip a hat towards the modern scene but My Kappa Roots remains squarely within the folk camp. It’s release on Drifting Falling, which ‘specialising in atmospheric, electronic and organic sounds. This might range from shoegaze, post-rock, folk, electronica, ambient, drone, glitch or any combination thereof’, denotes an open mind and keen contemporary orientation The hidden track at the end of the dour festival, a ludicrously penned track in its own right, brimming laughter of nitrous origins, voice changed in childish humor undercuts the melancholic tone and while it pertains to a fairly common gimmick of recording it seems to undercut the albums whole in one stroke. It makes you wonder where you stand as a listener, lulled into beauty to be exited with a sense of the form ending as a practical joke. Perhaps Kappa is a Japanese river imp after all.
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