Six Organs of Admittance: Time is Glass

Since the late ’90s, for me the primary source of folk and experimentalism has been Ben Chasny.

Through the Six Organs of Admittance lens, Chasny has executed some of the most magical moments committed to tape. From his 1998 self-titled debut, through to Dark Noontide (2002) and For Octavio Paz (2003), these works were the foundations for what would become Chasny’s golden period, starting with School of the Flower (2005), then The Sun Awakens (2006), which led to the defining statement that is Luminous Night (2009).

Later years have seen more blueprint moments, too, but as fan bases grow older and priorities in life shift, things move that little bit slower, and in a world that moves in the opposite direction, artists of Chasny’s ilk are perhaps now considered the focal point for a devoted few.

Take the criminally underrated Companion Rises (2020) and the hybridisation of post-punk in The Veiled Sea (2021). Not only albums that are rightly placed in the upper reaches of the Six Organs canon, but also ones that provided a much-needed jolt through the various stages of lockdown. And following last year’s collaboration with British experimental guitarist, Rick Tomlinson, Chasny returns with the latest thread in the Six Organs tapestry: Time is Glass.

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In tandem with lightning-fingered guitars, Chasny’s voice holds infinite allure. Everything seems so effortless, and with Time is Glass, Chasny’s woodsy mind-maps wander as gracefully as ever across those open terrains.

Time is Glass is a sum of its parts. Not for a long time has there been so much space in Chasny’s songs, and following decades of plying his trade on the road and living throughout different parts of America, the most recent years have seen the songwriter return home to Humboldt County. Time is Glass mirrors that homespun warmth, where time moves slow and, essentially, has no currency. Chasny uses his immediate surroundings to great effect in what is his true loner record, escaping the outside noise and creating a stunning version of his own.

Chasny begins with lead single and opening track, The Mission. Written about a friend trying to make a long-distance relationship work in long-term, The Mission sees Chasny at his masterful and melodic best. Songcraft built on simplicity, Chasny’s campfire purr is the first of many which illuminates the surroundings of where Time is Glass was conceived.

Thematically, Hephaestus arouses the uncertainty of the The Mission, with synths and strings that rattle and drone. An imagery forms where the storm clouds are closing in, and throughout Time is Glass, snapshots form where one could construe the narrative bleeding from one song into the next.

Musically, the achingly tender Slip Away sees Chasny taking the Six Organs of Admittance story to wonderful new heights. Hazy-headed balladry with Chasny’s sleepy melodies likened to a prairie hum cutting through the miasma of solitude.

Then there’s the likes of Pilar and Summer’s Last Rays. Here, Chasny leans into the hazy aesthetics of For Octavio Paz and the underrated library album under his own name, The Intimate Landscape (2021). In between is the tangled folk of Theophany Song, which drips with the kind of off-kilter virtuosity of the Hexadic albums. Chasny’s has never written a straightforward record and with these knotty compositions, he doesn’t start now.

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Perhaps the best moment arrives with Spinning in a River. Dripping with sombre poeticism and thundering drones, with a line such as, “It’s hardly the time for me to say goodbye”, one could enter the same dark vortex Chasny pulled us in on Luminous Night’s Ursa Minor or even Asleep on the Floodplain’s Hold But Let Go. (“I’ll dream of spinning around and around and around the river with you.”).

With a book end to match the effortless spirit of The Mission, while New Year’s Song ties the story of Time is Glass together, perhaps the most telling moment comes earlier with the skittish electric folk of My Familiar. As Chasny sings, “No one says there’s nothing to do in this town”, he defies the odds with an album he would never have envisaged writing all those years ago. Those years spent between drowning audiences in the glorious noise of Comets on Fire and being the vital pillar of the freak-folk movement.

Musically at least, the environment Chasny currently inhabits is one conducive to capturing those defining moments, and Time is Glass feels like another one. A record that could be considered a gateway for a new generation of listeners, who have the potential to be just as enthralled in the Six Organs of Admittance sound world as those of us who have been here from the beginning.

Time is Glass is out Friday via Drag City. Purchase from Bandcamp.