“And it’s joy, honey / Pure joy, uh-huh / Pure joy just to see you again…” — from “Pure Joy.”
And so it is with this pure joy that the gorgeous, aching, ageless music of M. Ward returns to our ears once more. The honey-voiced poet has spent the past few years touring and recording with two other projects: She & Him (he = M. Ward, she = Zooey Deschanel) and Monsters of Folk (a collaborative project, also featuring members of My Morning Jacket and Bright Eyes). Ward’s last solo release, Hold Time, was a seemingly-endless three years ago; and he finally returns this year with his seventh release, the trusty A Wasteland Companion.
The Companion begins with a tribute to the late, great Alex Chilton (leader of the critically-acclaimed, classic rock outfit Big Star), a tender tune with the title of “Clean Slate.” “‘Cause I only have to wait a little while before I … Get my… Clean slate.” — Ward’s classically-trained fingerpicking concurs softly thereafter. His voice sounds closer and clearer than ever, his guitar sounds more dynamic and colourful than before, and his lyrics exude classicality naturally and fluently in ways that perhaps even Post-War didn’t fully illustrate.
Mid-album track “The First Time I Ran Away” is also a mellifluous triumph for M. Ward and his Wasteland Companion. Dreamy guitar strums instantly translate to a hazy canvas background of warm mahoganies and brick reds — The bass surfaces from the depths with lush violet swirls and heavy blues. “The first time I ran away.. I saw faces in the trees.. I heard voices in the stars… They say, ‘Oooooohh, oooohhh…'” — A mist of radiant royal purples and midnight blues rain from the canvas’s northern-most borders. Little touches of electric yellow pierce the dark soundscape, carefully traced by mid-to-high register guitar notes. Distant timpani reverberations propel the masterpiece forward and forward until its winning end. It’s breathtaking, bittersweet, and absolute bliss on vinyl.
Other grand highlights include the mysterious fable “Me & My Shadow,” the palpably poignant lament “Crawl After You,” and the chilling narrative “Watch the Show.” The last of this list concerns a (presumedly fictional) television network employee who hijacks his network’s station in an attempt to seek retribution for his lost years “inserting laughter after every punch-line” — And it is a sonic delight and a lyrical masterpiece.
Accumulatively, A Wasteland Companion is another successful release from the master of timeless lo-fi. Vinyl is preferable, lossless audio is the next best thing.
★★★★☆ 4 stars (out of 5 stars)