Monday, December 30, 2013

Arthur Lyman "Hawaiian Sunset" (1959)

                What a sleepy little record.  This may be one of the quietest albums I own.  Literally, the amount of sound coming off the grooves is far less than any other album I have.  However, what it lacks in volume, it make up for in dynamic range.  The playing is so soft that I feel like if someone dropped a glass in the background, my headphones would explode.  When instruments are played this softly, it almost can make you feel somewhat uneasy.  I went to an experimental music show at a Boston conservatory once.  I was told it would be a very quiet show, but I had no idea that the lack of sound would actually make me feel anxious.  It was almost like the sound of my own breathing was interrupting the songs or something.  This record is not that extreme, but does have some elements of that.  At the end of the day, I really do like this record, but I think it makes my wife feel weird.  I can get that.  There are also these big conch shell bellows that explode the volume (I’m looking at you “Ke Kali Nei Au.”)  The whole trip is intriguing. 
                As I mentioned in my post of Hugo Winterhalter’s album “Goes…Hawaiian,” I love “Hawaiian War Chant.”  This version may be one of my favorites, just because it is so different.  First, it starts off in a minor key instead of the traditional major.  It changes to major, but not just the major version of the regular key.  It moves to the relative major.  It is a very basic song to start with, so I really like how Arthur and the boys make it their own. 
                “Hilawe” is only 1:11 seconds long and the group makes every second count.  My buddies and I used to do a lot of “Top 5” lists and one of the topics was songs under 2 minutes.  They are pretty rare to begin with unless you really dig punk music.  “Hilawe” would make my list any day of the week.  It feels a little anachronistic on the record because it is a guitar number and has no vibraphone.  It’s quite charming in its simplicity and performance though.  You can even hear that Arthur’s lowest string on his guitar is a bit desafinado.  Perhaps the concept of the exceptionally short song is somewhat underexplored.  It sure does work here. 
                Because this record is so quiet, there is also strange background noise to be heard.  Strap on some headphones and listen to “Island of Golden Dreams.”  There is a tinkling sound that can be heard right at the beginning behind the band.  Humming and breathing are heard often as well.  Because this album, as well as many of his others, was recorded at the Henry J. Kaiser Aluminum Dome, you can hear creaks of metal as well.  These superfluous bits are part of the Lyman sound as far as I am concerned, and they certainly add to the strange quality of these recordings. 

Tones:  I don’t think I mentioned how beautiful the playing actually is.  Arthur’s tone is soft as rabbit’s fur and makes you feel like your eyes are closed even when they aren’t.  The guitars are also barely strummed and have that old string tone I enjoy so much (I never change my strings on my acoustic until they break.)  Check out the bowed double bass on “Harbor Lights.”  The tone is so low that strings must be about to 15 feet long to obtain it.  I also want to own a celesta one day after hearing this album. It’s not all “Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy” with that instrument.     
                  
Cover Note:  Very basic, but fitting.  How can you not enjoy a picture of a Hawaiian Sunset?  There are also two little silhouettes at the bottom right if you have never noticed them. 

Price Paid:  $5.00 at an antique shop.

Bottom Line:  After writing this I have concluded that this is a very avant-garde album.  It never truly settles in and even when it starts to, something weird happens.  With that being said, I am always glad I listened to it, and feel better for having done so.  I’d pay $1.00-$5.00 for a clean copy.  Don’t buy a scratchy copy though.  It’s too quiet for that.    

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