Frank Schweikhardt
Life But No More
Crossroads Of America; 2009
Atmosphere in music is important to me, and I often talk how certain kinds, types, and styles of music immediately illicit impressions of a certain time, space, or environment. I envy the ability of a song and its writer to take me out of my head and place me into an otherworldly scenario, whether fictional or one from my memory banks. These are not entirely escapist fantasies to which I’m referring; it’s more about the power inherent in certain types of art to give me pause, stop me in my tracks, and allow me the space I need to dream.
Frank Schweikhardt seems to understand that this need lies with each of us, even if we don’t acknowledge it ourselves. On his new record, Life But No More, he has seemingly constructed a song cycle that blessedly blurs the line between various romantic and spiritual themes. Listeners are subtly invited to immerse themselves in these quiet folk tunes to either slow down a bit to enjoy the music or possibly engage in some personal meditation time.
This is not the work of some common, pie-in-the-sky, hyper-idealistic, chord-strumming folk singer. Key tracks like “The Dead,” “Twin Cities,” and “Level Lights” are filled with melodic progressions plucked upon an acoustic guitar, subtle washes of electric guitar, traces of an organ for texture, and a delicately refined rhythm section. Moreover, Schweikhardt calls to mind key chilled-out aspects of Pedro The Lion, Damien Jurado, and Damien Rice (minus the latter’s occasional melodrama), along with obvious nods to Red House Painters and label mates husband&wife.
Schweikhardt occasionally allowed the atmosphere to get slightly too sleepy, primarily on cuts like “Lisbon” and “Disclaim,” both of which slip into generic background music territory. Such instances unfortunately allow for people to overuse such modifiers as pensive or melancholy, and while such words might be relatively accurate, they also detract from the overall character of the album. I would rather use such words as reclusive and reflective (comparative synonyms, I know) because they better describe the pleasantly introverted places to which the music brings me.
I would willingly put on Life But No More during a lazy, rainy weekend, but not because I want some sort of moody, “sad bastard” music to accompany the grey weather – quite the opposite, actually. This is a coherent, unified series of songs that gently tap me on the shoulder and ask patiently for my attention, hoping that I will connect with them ever so slightly. Simply put, it’s difficult to ignore the emotional depth of this record, as Schweikhardt intones a set of basic mantras straight out of real life (no sugar-coating here!), ones designed to assist us with setting aside the busy-ness of life and attending to the more important issues in our souls.