Because—over and above a taste for folk, bluegrass, etc.—I have a pronounced affection for rip-roaring metal, vaulting progrock, bizarre neoclassical, and thumping rock musics, I sometimes get chided for a softness towards really good mellow rock, but when it comes to cuts like Heartache and Lace here, the attraction's not hard to figure out.
Pete Mroz has a rough-ish look to him (catch the reverse liner photo) so you never expect the sensitivity and delicacies shown. Nonetheless, the guy is fully invested in his gentle compositions and not just as a sideline, as is the case with so many. He plays a simple chord-oriented guitar while making a melodious and wistful singing voice the main point—pitch perfect, floating, and pliable. Think of the mellowest sides of early America, Michael Franks, Chris DeBurgh, Batteaux, Simon & Garfunkel, that sort of thing. And when David Henry brings the strings in, oh geez! Hauntingly beautiful and then some.
When you might need a period of calm and reflection, this is what you want. Soothingly arranged, gorgeously spare and spacious while exactly populated for precise and perfect evocations, Detachment is a rare bird and herewith joins my small collection of diamond expositions in this vein, releases all too few and far between. Be prepared for pastorales, thoughts on vanished love, insights on human dilemmas, and moments so poignant they make your spirit ache, each one presented in filigree and gauze—in short, ten cuts of non-stop exquisite delicacy.
Edited by: David N. Pyles
Copyright 2009, Peterborough Folk Music Society.
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