Whimsy and fantasy are all it takes for Chris Barth to make a goodalbum. The lyrics on the album don't always make sense, but sometimesthey have a familiar sentiment that conjure up memories and ideas aboutthe world that might otherwise be forgotten. The whole of this recordworks like this: Barth's voice takes front and center on nearly everytrack and it is a gorgeous voice capable of both distress and relief.The music, when it isn't just an acoustic guitar, rolls along like agarage band trying to feel out its new equipment and this childlikeclumsiness is what marks the best songs on the album. In the meantimeBarth speaks out lyrics like "I'm gonna watch my baby trees grow / Overthe next fifty years I hope / I should have known I would hurt you likethat / I'll bet the farm I won't make it home." Not exactly the stuffof Byron or Whitman, but it's the way that he sings that makes thelyrics so important; it is as though they were written to fit aroundthe music and were not so much drawn up to convey deep, personalconvictions. The music, as a whole, is simplistic with arrangementsthat play on the addition of instruments in just the right place. "OurPlace in the Sky" is just a popping guitar rhythm with Barth's voicehighlighting the accents until a bass guitar begins to wrap all therhythm into a tide of melody and completes the song. "Watching YourHouse Burn" is a slow rhythmic intensification that pulses with all thereverb of layered acoustic guitars and the uneasy rumbling of drummachines. The opening lines, "I got poems on my shelf / I pick one offand raise a spell," are the epitome of the album and mark theprogression of this song and others. As the acoustic guitar races alongwith Barth's voice a tension is developed that relieves itself in thesound a heavy, thumping bass and the echo of a simple and repeatedlyrical theme. Most of these songs clock in at the two minute mark, butone outstanding and instrumental exception is "Sun Enters Capricorn."Whether or not the album's lyrics are completely convincing or even ifthey were just built around the songs after they were developed, Born a Black Diamondas a deliciously mystical aura. The guitar wailing and phased nuanceson "Sun Enters Capricorn" wobble and tumble like a living creature inits death throes. The drums on this track are noticeably heaviercompared to others and everything after this song seems to emanate outof this song, as though it were the most important piece. "The Balladof Normanoak" closes the album on a solemn and reverent note, as thoughthe music was all devoted to the mythical character of Normanoak. Afuzzed-out guitar makes its presence known between Barth's pained voiceand the light plucking of an acoustic melody. "Normanoak, Normanoak /You touched me, you let out some smoke / Oh it goes, oh it goes" andthe story (pointless? epic? nonsensical pseudo-myth?) ends. Read More
