Am I a man of few words? Not really. More
like a man of short sentences.
I once summarized Hemingway's The Old Man
and the Sea in five words:
Old man. Fishing. No fish.
I can be brief.
And while I thought about using twitter for
this review... The Far Side of the Sea--the new album by Eric Peters--
definitely deserves more than 140 characters.
When I was hosting the Twelve Minute Muse
podcast a couple of years ago, Eric was kind enough to do an interview; you can
hear that interview HERE. At that point he had started working on the concept
and songs for this album. Fast forward to today...the digital version released
to Kickstarter patrons just a couple of weeks ago, and the CDs began arriving
in mailboxes this week.
So let's explore The Far Side of the Sea.
Throughout, the imagery takes us outdoors.
We start with lightning,
Then, we go to the shore. Next, the starry
night, and then "the fields that are covered in dust ."
There are "Vapor trails [that]
disappear in the sky," " the trampled earth,"
"Finding breath in the bone dry
dirt," and "Under skies of old routine, when the earth brings no
relief."
All along this journey...as nature so often
prompts us... we are forced to come to grips with our smallness...our frailty.
Do you know what I mean?
Have you ever stood on the shoreline and
gazed at the vastness of the water...the tide both calming you and somehow
terrifying you all at once? In the same
way, have you stood beneath the sway of a giant oak tree amidst the approach of
a summer storm? Again...did you
simultaneously feel the sense of both comfort and terror?
As Peters' songs carry us through these
scenes, he captures that sense of wonder and despair. The tracks flow
seamlessly into each other until we reach number 6. "Beautiful One
(Nowhere)" is the magnificent tree in the middle of the metaphorical
forest we are walking through.We are forced to slow down, walk around it a few
times, ponder its weightiness. As we move ahead from there, our step seems
lighter. Our confidence strengthened somewhat. Maybe it's that feeling of the
light at the end of the tunnel...that sense that we will make it out of the
woods.
All the way through this journey, Peters
voices a confessional with equal parts transparency...honesty...fragile
humanity...despair...hopefulness...and trust...somehow looking beyond the
present doubts and difficult circumstances to a promise of something better. He
notes the "rusted things wearing worn-out crowns," but looks beyond
to "a light that will guide me home."
Musically, I hear a palette of Peter
Gabriel...Jackson Browne... and slight traces of Andrew Peterson and Steven
Curtis Chapman. The music is atmospheric, providing a canvas for the brilliant,
lyrical sketches of Eric Peters.