Homemade capos and invented tunings aside, Glenn Jones continues his reign as king of American Primitive Guitar. While we’re sure that proponents will balk at the description, APG is acoustic psych/folk steeped in pensive and morose Americana that has likely accompanied as many nights around the campfire as it has Uncle Cletus shooting nephew Jethro in the face trying to knock a bottle off his head with a Winchester 37.
This is the fourth album by the former Cul De Sac guitarist, and its melody-rich finger-picking triangulates at the point where mopey indie rock, slow-motion neoclassical arpeggiated bounciness and unblemished mountain-air freshness meet. Each track uses space and understated dynamics to paint vivid pictures of, say, wandering minstrels traipsing through overgrown fields (“In Durance Vile”) and woofi ng on an organic beet farm (“Gone Before”).
Swaths of Fleeting might fall on the dull side, depending on the active prevalence of one’s ADD, but for those able to take time to sniff the roses, Jones has penned an appropriate soundtrack.