“Hypnagogic” is a word that refers to the unique space between sleeping and dreaming, and it’s not surprising that the term has been used to describe the music of Greg Jamie. Hailing from Portland, Maine, Jamie’s music is often an odd, woozy, and unsettling place, but his songs also contain warmth and comfort, as if he’s your guide through a dark place just before dawn. His debut album, Crazy Time, was a seductive, lo-fi gem, and the follow-up, Across a Violet Pasture, covers much of the same territory, but with a broader scope and greater ambition.
Jamie, who sings and plays guitar and synth, is joined primarily by Colby Nathan, who produced the album and also contributes bass, synth, guitar, and vocals (and was also a crucial contributor to Crazy Time). The sound is off-kilter and mysterious, exhibiting both the backwoods folk aura of Bonnie “Prince” Billy and the scratchy, lo-fi tendencies of Cindy Lee. The primitivism that inhibits much of the record works beautifully alongside Jamie’s compositions, which effectively straddle the line between indie folk and a somewhat foreboding gothic sensibility.
There’s a sort of ragged majesty to the songs, and an informal running theme of “going away — in search of freedom, alternatives, and a sense of meaning”, according to the record’s Bandcamp page. “Can there be a beautiful place / Where we could go in this world?” Jamie sings on “Beautiful Place”, featuring Josephine Foster on backing vocals (who, as luck would have it, happened to be traveling through Maine when the song was being recorded).
In the dark, brooding, synth-heavy “Wanna Live”, Jamie hints at returning to his roots: “I wanna live on the embankment where I’m from / I’ve got a feeling I can’t leave this world alone.” Later, when he refers to “a noose around my heart”, it underscores the recurring imagery of violence and vulnerability.
The dusty production glitches that dot the record, which may seem initially ominous, bring about a more intimate sense of closeness to the listener, as if the shackles of modern production would seem too emotionally distant. Jamie and Nathan – as well as co-conspirators Foster, Robert Pycior, Elizabeth Fuchsia, Mark Fede, Keith J. Nelson, Tom Kovacevic, Michael Cormier-O’Leary, and David Rogers-Berry – are in the trenches with you. Sparse, dreamy tracks like “Sunny” and the charming, acoustic-based album closer “Distant Shore” coexist comfortably alongside more full-band numbers, such as “What Is the Answer”, in which Jamie searches for meaning amid the chaos.
Greg Jamie describes Across a Violet Pasture as something that “might sound like it’s on a dirty cassette tape, buried and unearthed, but has muffled brightness. Something that might sound better early in the morning if you haven’t slept.” An appropriate description from a sonic perspective, for sure, but alongside that ragged aesthetic is a sense of wonder and personal discovery that gives Across a Violet Pasture a unique stamp, making it an album that was certainly worth the seven-year wait.