One woman. A laptop. Two microphones. A 10′ x 14′ foot backyard “recording studio.” The Japanese concept of wabi-sabi – finding meaning in imperfection, impermanence and simplicity. With these elements Laura Veirs created Temple Songs, an album that, with the exception of one totally unhinged sax solo, is all her. Named for the backyard studio she built, Temple of Bloom, it reflects the will of a woman who has rebuilt her life after a divorce, second marriage and the blending of four children into one family. Instead of recrimination and retaliation she delivers a multifaceted display, a portrait of a woman re-energized and re-engaged, finding a way forward in a world that may have never been less stable.
Following an arc from Theodore Parker through Martin Luther King, Jr. to Barack Obama, Veirs gentle finger picking on ‘Arc Still Bends’ uncovers a woman at odds with herself and the world. “The arc still bends towards justice, right?/ I’m not so sure in the middle of the night/ The arc still bends towards justice, right?/ So why am I still holding this fucking sign?” While there seems to be a sense of futility, there is also hope in three sunbeams she finds warming the cold ground. Those rays reinspire damp hearts and carrying signs still seems to be in fashion.
Restlessness and uncertainty seem to always be nearby. ‘Flying into Darkness’ deals with these conditions head on. “Hurtling through space with my metal wings/ Were the Northern Lights cradling my head/ When will I be ground/ When I’m dead.” Yet that doesn’t stop Veirs from continuing to search. It’s all just part of a process that never seems to end. As she suggests, “this song comes from a feeling or being existentially unmoored in a dark uncertain moment. I kept circling the same questions: how do I stay grounded/ How do I feel like I’m doing some real good, nudging things – even slightly – in a better direction.”
While the drum patterns of ‘Pulse’ may be rudimentary, a snap and crackle infects the song. The pulse is one of being alive, trusting in the good, even as we are surrounded by images filled with chaos and suffering. From the strum of acoustic guitar the song builds, adding electric guitars, then a saxophone solo credited to “Filthy” Lucre. And filthy it is, raw and ravaged. A dissonant duet it tears at the notion of tension and release, unleashing a sense of havoc in an otherwise gentle record. Throughout it reveals the pulse of being alive in all its ragged glory.
‘No Masters’ offers a call for collective self-determination while maintaining a soft folky centre. At the same time offering a vision of Veirs removing her former husband from the pages of her journals. Closing the collection, ‘Sunlight and Doom’ incorporates the writing of the ancient Greek lyricist Sappho, not someone who usually comes up in the music of the 21st century.
Going inward and creating music without the input of other musicians allows Laura Veirs to get directly to the heart of who she is today. Temple Songs reflects a woman coming to grips with who she is; unphased and unafraid to expose both her fears and hopes.