*** Various Artists
THE GIGAFONE RECORD VOL. 1, NO. 2
(Gigafone Records)
Robert Sylvain was on to something when he launched Gigafone Records back in
November, and the grassroots label’s second installment of its local music
periodical, The Gigafone Record, proves it once again. As it did with
its debut, Gigafone presents a series of live, lo-fi recordings from area
musicians that gently remind listeners of how raw talent and simplicity beat
posturing and super-slick production any day of the week.
Although I can’t support the notion that “this issue begins to define a whole
new world of music” (as the extensive, but sometimes painfully melodramatic
liner notes suggest), the CD is, on the other hand, a beautifully crafted
reflection of the acoustic traditions of American folk, bluegrass, and blues.
All of the cuts share an almost breathtaking sincerity. From the opening chords
of accomplished folk singer/songwriter Abi Tapia, (accompanied by Haakon
Kallweit of The Piners on mandolin) on “Big Front Porch,” to Colleen
Kinsella and Chriss Sutherland of Cerberus Shoal’s duet “Getting Over the Hump,
” each contributing artist adds something distinctly and unforgettably their
own.
Jenny Whitter, a.k.a. Jenny Jumpstart, anchors this volume with outstanding
country-tinged tracks recorded at the Out of Cake rehearsal space, and with the
Cap Guns at The Track Farm in Cape Elizabeth. Whitter’s delivery on such cuts as
“I Watched You Go” and “Corner Girl” is spare, careful and in all, as close to
perfect as this intentional celebration of the imperfect could reasonably be.
John “The Hollerin’ Man” Witham contributes similarly strong work with his earthy
, charming rendering of “Streets of Laredo” from a recording made in an old
grange hall he calls home in Richmond.
Scarborough’s Phil Wells, alum of the Free Street Taverna’s Open Mic Night and
winner of last year’s songwriting contest at The Maine Festival, provided one
of the CD’s most memorable turns. Recorded in Wells’ bathroom, “The Picture” —
a stark, sad snapshot of a life gone totally sour — is reminiscent of some of Vic
Chesnutt or even Cat Stevens’ best work.
— Pete Hodgin