Alabaster DePlume is unlike any artist of today. He’s a singer, multi-instrumentalist, poet, and philosopher all at once. He recites his poems over a backdrop with some of the UK’s best jazz musicians, including John Ellis, Donna Thompson, Mikey Kenney, Macie Stewart, and Ruth Goller. Yet the music, though filled with improvisation, is at best genreless. This is an album about healing, dignity, and struggle.
He delivers ancient folk melodies, groove-driven avant-garde jazz, striking string arrangements, voices that take the shape of a post-modern Greek chorus, and vibrato-laden saxophone passages that run from fragile bursts and whimpers to beast-like strength. Many of the words are selections from his 70-page poetry book. These are songs of survival, confronting pain rather than avoiding it, and shunning escapism. In the introduction, he writes, “The blade, that divides, is whole. Healing is the forming of a whole…A blade could be used to attack, to shave, to sever, but it could also be used to cut oneself loose – in the process of getting free.”
The instrumental opener “Oh My Actual Days” sets his vibrato-laden sax against Macie Stewart’s string arrangements and Kenney’s airy, haunting vocals. “Thank You My Pain” with these lines was inspired by Vietnamese monk and activist Thich Nhat Hanh. His half-sung thoughts come through in a seesaw, wavering way as he plays electric guitar and tenor, and sings along with drummer Thompson and bassist Goller. ‘Invincibility” has an airy, folk-like feel as DePlume sings about self-respect in his idiosyncratic way (last line: “let go, I hear you in my own hand/I am, you know, I don’t know I am”).
To give you a flavor of the shifting instrumentation, he plays acoustic guitar, tenor, and synth accompanied by Miller on cello, Stewart on strings, and the backing voice of Thompson. The slow motion “Form a V” comes closest to a monologue, taking its title from his jiu-jitsu practice where the whole contingent will stand in a V facing one lone individual. It’s his way of expressing his readiness to take on any challenge. Here, while he is lead voice, playing both tenor and baritone, the string and voice arrangements are by Momoko Gill. The voices in “A Paper Man” sound like a large group of Gregorian monks, yet it’s only De Plume, Thompson, and Goller with the music generated by a saxophone trio. The tune is about owning up to one’s mistakes, using the paper lighting candles as if he is not vulnerable to the flames. When the fire occurs, he can only blame himself.
The following four consecutive tunes are instrumentals save for DePlume’s wordless vocals here or there. He sings through his horn with the same aforementioned saxophone trio on “Who Are You Telling, Gus.” His ability to bend notes on the sax combined with his voice create a sonic akin to Indian music, although I’m not at sure that’s what he was after. The pivotal instrumental track is “Prayer for My Sovereign Dignity,” one fleshed out with piano, guitars, and strings, a tune that celebrates dignity with swelling strings. “Kuzushi” is another judo term, meaning breaking one’s balance. DePlume takes this one alone on tenor, baritone sax, and electric and acoustic guitars. The industrial-sounding, swaying “Salty Road Dogs Victory Anthem” is another short piece about celebrating oneself. His vibrato goes to an even higher level here, backed by Rozi Plain on bass, Gill on drums, and Conrad Singh on electric guitar.
Vocals reemerge on “Too True,” which begins as a duet with DePlume on acoustic guitar and Miller on cello. Every time Deplume does spoken or half-sung passages, his voice is very low, much like Leonard Cohen’s. This tune is about loss. According to DePlume, when we lose something forever, we also lose the self we were in relation to that thing. Ultimately, this allows to grow and heal. Finally, the full ensemble with string arrangement from Stewart returns for the closer “That Was My Garden.” The lyrics are simple “That was not a car park/That was my garden.” He let the garden go to waste, having cars run over it. He thinks of the flowers he could have had and feels grief. To him, this is another aspect of healing. Heady stuff, not for the faint of heart.
