And Now That I'm In Your Shadow

The first installment of a two-part 26-song cycle, *And Now That I’m In Your Shadow* is much like Jurado’s most recent work: folk with an eerie stillness in the air. Reportedly, he’s permanently added cellist and singer Jenna Conrad and multi-instrumentalist Eric Fisher to flesh out his mournful tunes – mostly about cheating lovers and dysfunctional families on the verge of dissolution or violence — but this is an ensemble meant to fit inside a shoebox. There are no sweeping exits, no rousing epiphanies, just a slow, metronomic ticking away of the hours. Conrad’s cello smoothes over Jurado’s rustic acoustic guitar pluck and her voice adds just the right amount of sweetener to Jurado’s plaintive husk. The duo’s harmonies draw deep from Appalachia, yet there\'s a modern dissonance underpinning these tunes, the sound, perhaps, of a car engine motoring down the empty highway in pursuit of motion. “Picture now a car ride through the plains,” he sings on the opening track, “Hoquiam,” laying out the bleak trip ahead. Hard to conceive where the second, concluding installment will take us.

The veteran singer-songwriter once again carries his accumulated fatigue and an aura of defeat on his latest collection of songs.

Damien Jurado is a gifted songwriter, but he's always had trouble finding the right pacing and tone for his albums. His beautiful depression can be enormously engaging when it's balanced with more upbeat moments, and a drag when it isn't; his muscular moments work best in measured doses. (Witness his only full-on…

Damien Jurado's seventh full-length -- and God knows how many singles, EPs and compilation cuts -- walks quietly in the shadow of 2005's On My Way to Absence.

Damien Jurado - And Now That I'm In Your Shadow review: Sparse, emotional folk from a master storyteller that is perfect for late night listening.