Nighttime loons wail across the lakes like distant sirens – an eerie yet mesmerising sound that led Steve Gunn to dedicate his new album Daylight Daylight to these nocturnal birds. The gently plucked guitar chords of the opener »Nearly There« evoke sunlight and a soft breeze drifting through an open window. In another imagined scene, a zither-playing youth wanders through a secluded forest, enraptured by nature’s beauty.
That Gunn is, in truth, processing the death of an old acquaintance shortly after a chance encounter only becomes apparent on second listen, as the peaceful pulse of plucked and bowed strings and his warm vocals quietly reveal their weight. The expansive strings and the singer’s wistful timbre not only lower the pulse but open the mind to a meditative journey which, thanks in part to James Elkington’s sensitive arrangements, takes on a cinematic quality.
In the title track, this effect intensifies: the string figures oscillate between restraint and a faint sense of unease. Just months after Gunn’s first instrumental album Music for Writers, Daylight Daylight offers another gentle lullaby in broad daylight – without lulling the listener to sleep. Instead, it suggests that the light at the end of the tunnel does indeed exist, and that this album offers the grounding one might have hoped for.
Daylight Daylight
