A quarter-century of diverse creativity under his belt, London-based multi-instrumentalist and singer-songwriter Duke Garwood is aptly described as a veteran. And though the ascent of his reputation has been gradual, a recent partnership with Mark Lanegan did much to increase his profile. Noteworthy associates and their flowing praise may give Garwood assistance, but his ace in the hole is musicianship; Heavy Love finds him in firm command of an artistry ripening with age and experience. The LP is out now via Heavenly Recordings.
Duke Garwood made his professional debut as the guitarist on The Orb’s 1991 single “Perpetual Dawn,” a connection some might assume would’ve led to a degree of notoriety and in relatively fast fashion. And maybe it would’ve, except he employed the moniker Duke James for the occasion and then spent the rest of the ‘90s in woodshedding mode.
Shortly into the new millennium he started popping up again on other people’s stuff, and by mid-decade he was supplying clarinet and rhaita (a reed instrument of Moroccan origin) to the oeuvre of the Archie Bronson Outfit. In ’05 he found time to release his first long-player Holy Week on Loog Records, and two years later sophomore effort Emerald Palace appeared on Butterfly Recordings (both are somewhat scarce these days).
Subsequently joining the roster of Fire Records, Garwood’s 5-song EP “He Was a Warlock” surfaced in ’09, The Sand That Falls arriving the same year as Dreamboatsafari hit racks in ’11. The label also gathered material from Garwood onto a pair of splits, specifically ‘10’s Keep Mother Vol. 6, a 10-inch with HTRK, and ‘12’s Duke/Wand, a Record Store Day LP with James Jackson Toth aka Wooden Wand.
Well-established as a utility man and as a collaborator, notably as part of ‘12’s Night Within by LAND, a group directed by Daniel Lea and Matthew Waters that along with Garwood included input from Guapo/Ulver-member Daniel O’Sullivan, experimentalist Alexander Tucker, composer Ben Frost, and long-serving sonic sculptor David Sylvian, Fire’s duo of splits did underscore his willingness to share the spotlight.
Furthermore, it foreshadowed a substantial boost to Garwood’s stature, 2013 seeing him co-credited with Mark Lanegan, their tandem Black Pudding issued in the US by Ipecac and in the UK by Heavenly. A strong outing for the ex-Screaming Tree and a satisfying affair overall, its greatest success may reside in raising exposure for Garwood, the equal billing indicative of the esteem he inspires in his fellow musicians.
Unsurprisingly, Black Pudding’s making was not fraught with complications, and in fact the process was finished a day ahead of schedule. In the leftover time Garwood stepped into Pink Duck studio, the facility of Queens of the Stone Age-leader Josh Homme that hosted Black Pudding’s sessions (as engineered by Alain Johannes), and began work alone on what would become Heavy Love.
Opener “Sometimes” quickly reinforces a familiar sensibility, a bluesy quality enduring throughout the subsequent nine tracks. Illuminated simultaneously is a close-recording technique beneficial to the constant reverberations of Garwood’s guitar playing and just as importantly to his voice, allowing the hearty warmth of delivery to register as a whisper even at high volume.
The amiability that helped to shape Black Pudding, if certainly lending itself to enjoyment, did limit its effectiveness a tad. But here, the lingering mood is of Garwood striving (and not straining) to hone his abilities into a powerful batch of songs. The focus is perhaps similar to the cleansing nature of many late-career documents, except lacking in false-modesty or the overplayed yearning to get back to where one once belonged.
Instead, there is a wealth of assurance, an attribute springing from Garwood’s self-production (the mixing was done by Lanegan and Johannes). But it’s additionally felt in a detectable rise in accessibility; while neither of his Fire discs is correctly assessed as difficult, they do exude traces of eccentricity, abstraction, and occasional rigor. Here, “Heavy Love” unfurls as perfectly suitable for airwaves programmed by an actual human rather than an automaton as it examines a subtly cyclical framework.
Beginning in a moderately tribal zone, Garwood’s voice emerges with conversational casualness; in short order his words are enhanced by the backing contribution of Savages’ Jehnny Beth. Again, the vibe is quite welcoming and remains so even after a little controlled feedback enters the scenario near its conclusion.
Jehnny Beth is just one of Garwood’s numerous admiring friends, Heavy Love’s promotion featuring an impressive bunch of testimonials (Beth, Lanegan, Kurt Vile, Seasick Steve), though outside participation on the record is healthily kept in check. For example, “Burning Seas” consists of vocals and layers of guitar, fingerpicking casting off brightness layered in waves of harnessed distortion.
It extends Garwood’s adeptness with minimalist environments, but “Disco Lights” offers broader terrain, its measured landscape noirish with the jazzy drumming of his longtime cohort Paul May and accentuated by muscular soloing. “Sweet Wine” follows, ambiance ripe with folky élan, the string work lithe and deepened by unobtrusive strains of organ.
It’s abundantly clear Garwood favors certain tempos, though Heavy Love never approaches the monochromatic. To the contrary, the swampy pulse and rattling percussion of “Snake Man” develops into a gradually intensifying groove sharpened by ample intoning and gutsy mouth harp suggesting Charlie Musselwhite strolled in from the hallway.
However, the album’s highpoint (at least at this early acquaintance) is the gorgeous, emotionally resonant songwriting of “Suppertime in Hell,” its guitar spanning from pretty to prickly to agitated as May’s drumming combines the driving and the atmospheric. And the moodiness persists in the slow-moving but highly passionate yearning of “Honey in the Ear”
The attractive inclusion of harmonium and Mellotron imbues “Roses” with a hint of drone/psych, the late twist finding Garwood’s singing a touch reminiscent of M Ward. “Hawaiian Death Song” retains an aura of psych, the vocal rich in feeling as the guitar grows particularly forceful; it achieves an expansive and meditative finale.
There is an unfortunate tendency, born partially from the need for brevity and the desire to stay on topic, which reduces the lives of artists merely to achievements known to the public at large. This inclination also stems from our mutual humanity; we obviously all transcend the fruits of our labor, though this reality can be very easily misplaced.
Naturally, Duke Garwood is more than just a talented guy who’s managed to incrementally progress in his livelihood to a currently favorable juncture. Heavy Love is an accomplishment reached not by compromise but through maturity and the skill to channel experience into art; it feels like a career best, but it’s a high point that’s potentially temporary.
GRADED ON A CURVE:
A
