It takes a particular talent to remove the stitching
of various musical cloth and thread together a
tapestry that feels as if it’s seamless and natural.
Jigzag have that singular talent. This, their second
album, is not easily classifiable, and nor should it
be. The trio – of guitar, violin and double bass –
blend acoustic folk, pop, Celtic, jazz and even
country swing; these streams flow into a river that
glistens on the surface with sunlight, yet has a
musical and emotional depth to it. The album kicks off
with the infectious joy of the title track, which was
born from busking days in Sydney. Man of Wood a piece
of jazz bravado, follows, written and sung by Liz
Frencham, it shows the ease with which this trio can
handle a change of direction. Interspersed with the
originals are interpretations of Celtic instrumentals,
including a melancholy and mood-riven version sung by
Caroline Trengove of She Moved Through the Fair. The
musicianship, whether ensemble or soloing (guitarist
Greg Bryce’s switch from one style to another mid-song
is impressive) is of a constantly high level. The
harmonies show a special chemistry, no more so than on
Between the Darkness and the Deep, an achingly tender
ballad. The coalescence of voices sends shivers down
the spine, and there’s no greater tribute to musicians
than that they can make ring, like a spoon on a glass,
a resonant chord within.
Warwick McFadyen
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