By Todd Lavoie
Marty Willson-Piper, “Questions Without Answers” (1989)
What a treat! Singer/songwriter/founding member of Aussie atmosphere-masters The Church, Marty Willson-Piper, is doing a special solo-spotlight show— backed by the alluringly-named Mood Maidens— at the Great American Music Hall on Sunday, May 4th. As far as I remember, the last time he played here in the city was back in the summer of ’06, with The Church, at the same venue. Ah, what a show that was— ever-genteel bandmate Steve Kilbey joked about spearheading an “Elizabethan Rock” movement, and Willson-Piper obliged by bringing delicate, graceful guitar-dexterity to Church slow-burners and ambience-anthems such as “Under The Milky Way”, “Chromium”, and “Metropolis”. No word yet about whether Elizabethan Rock is still on the front burner for the band, but the charming, quick-quipping guitarist/big-hit-with-the-ladies does have a new album out— entitled Nightjar (Heyday Records), it’s a gorgeous collection of warm-textured folk-rock pushed along by some of the most delicious six string jangles since, well, the last Church album, really.
Is an introduction to The Church necessary? Probably not, so how about a reminder, then: ever since releasing their debut Of Skins and Heart (Arista/EMI) back in 1981, the band has released well over a dozen albums and EP’s matching (frequently) melancholy neo-psychedelic atmospherics with mystical subject matter, and Willson-Piper has, along with lead singer Kilbey, been a constant in their two-decades-deep career. Much of their success should be attributed to his ability to float just the right color of aura to their formidable mood-making; it’s tough to imagine the smoldering majesty of Church classics like 1985’s “Myrrh”, 1988’s “Antenna”, or 2003’s “Sealine” without Marty’s sublime textures. Then, of course, there’s the perennial crowd-fave of “Spark”— the taut, sneering Mod stomper from 1988’s Starfish (Arista) gave the band’s usual backing-vocalist a truly inspired turn at the lead mic. Two particularly fascinating recent-additions to the band’s catalogue— 2004’s El Momento Descuidado and 2007’s El Momento Siguiente (both Liberation Music)— both offer exquisite “unplugged” revisits to career-highlights, and here, free of feedback and pedal effects, one can gain a whole new appreciation for his intricate guitar-work. Perhaps they also had an effect on the recording of Nightjar, as this new solo jaunt seems to share a kinship with the lush folk ambience of both albums. Granted, the disc does indeed have its electric moments— it even occasionally rocks out in that slow purposeful grind associated with latter-day Church recordings— but it’s easy to imagine Nightjar as a younger, rougher-around-the-edges sibling to the Momento twins.