[rating=7.00]
Along with shortening his name, the former Israel Nash Gripka has also pared down his approach, placing due emphasis on ringing guitars and forlorn vocals to achieve maximum affect. Nash often comes across as a Neil Young soundalike, due not only to his mournful croon but also to a sense of harrowing desperation that haunts practically every verse. This isn’t a bad thing necessarily, but the similarities between Nash and Young in both sound and style are unmistakable, creating an eerie feeling that’s hard to shake.
That he should emulate one of the revered masters of the idiom isn’t unusual in and of itself; indeed Young’s established a template that many young artists are often prone to reference. But given Nash’s previous accomplishments, stunningly showcased over the course of his five previous albums, it would seem he’s had ample time to develop an identity all his own. This isn’t meant as criticism — Israel Nash’s Silver Season is a fine album by any measure, a set of songs flush with raw sentiment and futile desire. At the same time however, Nash sometimes seems to be stuck in an ever widening malaise, and his songs, however pretty and melodious, sometimes sound so forlorn, they practically cry out for a little light.
Still, as much as one might hope for some respite — the final songs of the set seem to all fade into one continuous drone — Nash does inject a few subtleties that manage to spark added interest, at least momentarily. The hushed harmonies that add such a seductive lure to “LA Lately” and “The Fire and the Flood” induce a feeling of cosmic radiance on “Lavendula,” while giving it a striking similarity to Pink Floyd during interstellar overdrive. Likewise, the echoey effects that waft through “Parlour Song” give it its own other-worldly allure. It’s interesting and intriguing, but it offers little in that can contribute to elevating the energy.
Still, Silver Season is a striking effort, even with its sedate set-ups. All nocturnal indulgence, its reality is bound by repose.
