Villagers: That Golden Time

Sometimes songs are too precious to let out into the world, they can expose so much vulnerability that releasing them is almost too much to bear. Such was the problem Conor O’Brien had with his new Villagers collection That Golden Time. More raw and real than anything he has ever done before, this stuff recorded in his Dublin apartment was deeply personal. Finally, O’Brien invited collaborators Dónal Lunny (Planxty, The Bothy Band) in to add the finishing touches. Peter Broderick contributes violin, along with a group of players on soprano vocal, viola and cello that O’Brien had seen performing in a tribute to legendary film composer Ennio Morricone.

While this album arrives in late spring, it really seems to be a record (at least in spots) heralding fall. There is a darkness to “Truly Alone” that seems to arise from the sparseness of the instrumentation, little more than a piano and electronic drums merging with O’Brien’s voice. The introduction of synths only adds to the feel of shortened days and cold weather — you can feel the light shrinking away, second by second.

There’s a lighter, slightly brighter energy to “First Responder.” Amid the simple piano and drum box vibe, strings to synths begin to fill the frame while O’Brien looks at a world seeming just a tad out of joint. “Spending my days cursing disparity/ While you make the money and give it to charity,” he sings, pointing out the contrast between his realism and the romanticism of those around him.

Against the sound of simply plucked guitar O’Brien sings of how we end up doing exactly the wrong thing. “There’s a fairytale we call ‘Free Will’/ It was funny then, and it’s funny still/ And at the heart of it lies an endless greed/ Because we want what we don’t need.” Soft and gentle yet pointed as hell, the song continues to lay out the gap between what we need and what really lies at the heart of our desires. Being creatures of a world we haven’t created and have limited control over seems to keep leading us in the wrong direction again and again.

The dichotomies of That Golden Time, while not always haunting, never seem to be far away. There’s such a Floydian sense to the title song, you’d almost swear you can almost hear Roger Waters singing O’Brien’s jaundiced, melancholy lyrics “Remember, dear, that golden time/ Before you thought you had to choose/ Between the shrinking violet truth/ And a growing list of IOUs” as drums snap and keyboards and guitars work up a lissome sheen. O’Brien, however, has a slightly lighter touch than his British cousins.

Musically and lyrically literate, O’Brien imbues his songs with a sense of existential mystery. Villagers conflicted, lovely songs illustrate how life seems to get muddled in contradictory points of view and competing desires. Despite the desire of many to live in a black-and-white world, the shades of gray continue to generate a quandary. Just navigating one’s way through the day- to-day can be nigh on impossible. We are constantly being tugged in opposing directions. Trapped between who we are and who we wish to be, we can’t seem to find the power to make any kind of move at all. We are trapped between worlds, dealing with the majesty and madness that hover over our existence. With That Golden Time, Villagers reveal the tension that makes existence a struggle, while framing it in a most intriguing array of sounds and colors.