Scrimshire - Music for Autumn Lovers

A Closer Listen

We’ve always wondered why more composers don’t release music about the seasons in season.  Before the inevitable plunge into holiday music, there is autumn, a season deserving of its own score.  Two years ago, (Adam) Scrimshire released the Music for Autumn Lovers EP, which paired tree-inspired pieces with brief explorations; rescuing the four most prominent pieces from that EP and pairing them with four more, he has now completed a full album of the same name.  The music is meant to evoke the “wistful sadness and warm resignation” of fall, inspired by the changing of the light, the cooling of the air and the dying of the leaves.  And yet the cover itself conveys a love affair with autumn, highlighting the gold rather than the decay, the beauty more than the melancholy.

The combination of organic and electronic, folk and jazz evokes the roster of Clay Pipe Music, but this album is released on Albert’s Favourites.  The early notes of “Hawthorn” imitate flute, before the Moog takes control.  There’s no sense of urgency, only a soft surrender.  Light beats enter and disperse.  One can imagine the falling leaves, now descending later in the season than ever before.  “Hazel” is powered by acoustic guitar, although it’s not the only flavor; electronic handclaps and beats suggest a fall festival or even a hint of romance.  “Autumn lovers” may refer to people who love autumn, but it may also mean lovers in autumn.  Synthesized sax suggests their first kiss.

To twist the old saying, one must not overlook the trees for the forest.  Each track names a genus: Sweet Chestnut, Ash, Willow, Sycamore.  If not for the trees and their flourishes of fall color, one might feel differently about the season.  The leaves nourish the ground; fallen nuts are stored by skittering animals for the winter; fallen trees become new ecosystems.  “Hornbeam” ends with hand drumming, as if to evoke a tribalistic ritual.  In “Ash,” the tempo quickens, a reminder that autumn arrives slowly, but accelerates; sometimes all it takes is a single storm to strip the last leaves from the trees, leaving behind a barren landscape.  “Ash” trades electronic percussion for piano midway; one may not notice at first, just as one may sleep through the first frost.

“Willow,” the LP’s longest and most dynamic piece, follows an arc from quietude to burst and back: the season in a microcosm.  If one were to chart the orchestral and post-rock elements as they are introduced and subsequently fade, one might mirror the first fading of chlorophyll, the explosion of crimson and russet and burnt umber, and finally the skeletal, sorrowful branches.  Even these possess a bare beauty: a canvas bleached, waiting to be repainted.  Music for Autumn Lovers is not only for those who already love autumn, but for those seeking a reason to do so.  (Richard Allen)