Nonconnah - Nonconnah vs. the Spring of Deception

A Closer Listen

It’s always nice to return home and be welcomed by old friends.  After years away, Nonconnah (Magpie + Denny Wilkerson Corsa) has returned to Absolutely Kosher, which has greeted them with open arms; label mates Spencer Krug and Spaceheads lend their talents to what may be the duo’s most cohesive and positive album yet.  Their haunted, abraded stylings remain, culled from thrift shop tapes and unearthed mediums, making this a perfect October album; but Nonconnah vs. the Spring of Deception also boasts a surprisingly bright ending, and a cover that seems more fantasy than horror.

The first thing one notices is that the album is loud, mastered at a greater volume than its contemporaries, an exclamation point of drone.  The opening sample is spoken by a small child, who says, “I woke up in the middle of the night and I was scared because I thought the green light was gonna take me.  Two angels come – came – and God came and God was beautiful.”  The connections between alien abduction and rapture have never been more obvious.  When the static emerges and grows, it is matched by an equally powerful high-pitched twinkling, suggesting the battle of the LP’s title.  But the track, like most of those on the album, changes tracks before it ends; the closing seconds offer static-drenched banjo, an echo from the Appalachian hills.  When organ filters through the next track, one remembers all the Lost Trail albums in which the occult forces seemed to be winning; on this album they are winning no more.  Even the preacher on “Tied Together In The Deepest Currents” seems kinder than prior preachers, less unhinged.

As each track splinters into sub-tracks, the LP comes across as a collection of miniatures, and is best enjoyed as a whole.  “We All Want To Disappear Sometimes” introduces an electronic pulse; even here, where the tone might years ago have been depressive, it sounds more encouraging: the acknowledgment of a common ailment.  The pulse gives way to piano, then strings, then radio, and in “The Seven Lights From The Dark,” the first two return.  Over the years, we’ve used many words to describe the Corsas’ music, but to our knowledge, this is the first time we’ve used comforting.

Despite the changes in instrumentation, there’s an internal consistency to the work of Nonconnah. Their music conflates past and present while looking toward a future that may or may not involve spiritual apocalypse.  Legends intermingle with fantastic imaginings, pre-recorded music with live instrumentation.  While old cassettes are a primary part of the LP mix, Magpie leaves a new voice mail on an analogue tape recorder.  The album ends with “…Like Some Distant Star Collapsing,” which starts with the album’s loudest drone, but finishes with a train whistle and a serenade of strings and bells.  In execution and in theory, it sounds like coming home.  (Richard Allen)

Fri Oct 04 00:01:33 GMT 2024