In 2013 — as brash electro blasts dominate mainstream airwaves, and the bombastic Arcade Fire lords over indie rock with an opulent double album — it seems silly to think that the year's brightest spot might be a bunch of really good guitarists. This year has witnessed an almost unprecedented succession of superlative achievements from some of the world's best solo pickers. Just last week, NPR rock critic Lars Gotrich posted a list of five great new guitar records. He included sterling efforts from Marisa Anderson and Bill Orcutt, as well as Jesus I'm a Sinner, the newest and tidiest effort from 24-year-old Daniel Bachman, whose acoustic compositions convey the kind of wisdom one expects from a much older artist.
Gotrich positioned these albums as extensions of the American Primitive tradition, labeling them "Guitar Records That Would Make John Fahey Proud." Fahey and others — notably Leo Kottke and Jack Rose — solidified the style decades ago, rendering immersive and thoroughly modern compositions on acoustic guitars with conventional blues fingerpicking. But while most of this year's best guitar records interact with that legacy, many push beyond it.
Take Chris Forsyth's Solar Motel, another record on NPR's list, which creates triumphant chaos by bridging various rock traditions. Playing with a full band, the Philadelphian frolics atop mind-bending grooves that never stop growing. His solos erupt with colorfully abrasive textures. This is psych rock delivered with the elation of a jam band.
"It's almost like when you try to play solo guitar music, the bar is already like, 'OK, you're trying to be Fahey,' " Nashville's William Tyler told me earlier this year during an interview for Asheville, N.C.'s Mountain Xpress. "Or if you're not trying to be Fahey, you're trying to be this or that. I'm not under any illusion that anybody inherits that."
Tyler's 2013 LP Impossible Truth pushes American Primitive limits while utilizing its constructs. The album is built on brisk picking, with mesmeric melodies — played on acoustic and electric guitars — draped in comfortable reverb. But Tyler is as much a composer as a guitarist, buttressing his songs with elegant horns, subtle droning parts and poignant pedal steel. These decisions make his music feel incredibly lyrical, as though his instruments are all voices in some intangible narrative.
Others, such as Bachman, find a fresh voice by sticking to the basics. His songs bustle warmly, benefiting from youthful energy. On Jesus I'm a Sinner, his strings rattle through rich overtones, a power that elevates rambling toe-tappers and pensive ruminations alike. Save for some fleeting drone, the music is all acoustic. But Bachman doesn't feel limited by tradition. He's simply doing what feels right.
"I think I could do other stuff if I wanted to, but I'm still getting better," Bachman says. "I really want to do only one thing and just get it the best I can, instead of trying to jump around and trying to reinvent yourself with every new record. I think that sticking with one thing for me is really what I have to do because there's a lot of stuff that I want to do with it that I haven't done yet."
Email music@nashvillescene.com.
