 William Ackerman In Search of the Turtle's Navel was the first release from William Ackerman, founder of Windham Hill Records, a label that sharply divides people on its merits. Some think of Windham Hill as the preeminent shallow-yuppie label, while others believe in it with the maximum fervor allowed within a new age lifestyle. Most Loud Bassoon staffers, myself included, are vaguely, if somewhat warily, supportive of the label if for no other reason than it is a textbook example of an independent label success story, not to mention there is something a bit relieving about championing a label like Windham Hill when the credible thing to do would be to champion Sub Pop, et al. Our fundamental contention that there is, in fact, artistically valid new age music ("New Age Without Shame," we call it) keeps our minds open and our horizons at least expandable if not expanded. However, even within new age circles Windham Hill has a reputation for being homogenized and wimpy, which to a degree it definitely is, but its best moments (Michael Hedges, George Winston) are good enough to warrant a closer look. Unfortunately, the closer I look the more I see that, as with any label, there are only so many great moments and then, a whole lot of whatever. In Search of the Turtle's Navel was intriguing to me because it was the first Windham Hill release, and I have long held a theory that 70s new age music as a genre might have a whole lot of hidden gems. Navel, from 1976, isn't exactly a gem, although it's decent enough as a mellow collection of acoustic guitar solos. It's easy to see why it was received as a folk album when it was released, mainly because "new age" as a marketing term for music was a decade away, and there are some distinctly derivative moments (by Ackerman's own admission in the liner notes) of Loud Bassoon "blank stare" artists like Leo Kottke and John Fahey. Much of the album consists of the pensive, pristinely-recorded "lifestyle music" that Windham Hill has made its name on, but there is quite a bit of fingerpicking and folky note-bending throughout, sort of pointing, twenty-years hence, toward George Winston's fascination with Hawaiian slack key guitar on his Windham Hill-distributed Dancing Cat label. Titles like "The Pink Chiffon Tricycle Queen" and "Slow Motion Roast Beef Restaurant Seduction" (instrumentals, mind you) will do nothing to "seduce" the cynical, but the prettier, less whimsical moments do make a case for the "Windham Hill" sound being just as interetsing and valid as any other late-night soundtrack you can name. The new remastered version (that's another slightly baffling concept that intrigues me, "remastered classics" of new age) adds an enhanced multimedia portion for CD-ROM players called "Origin," in which Ackerman discusses the birth of Windham Hill and various aspects of its success, including profiles on WH artists George Winston, Michael Hedges, and Liz Story. Overall, the enhanced portion is pretty mediocre, and not particularly informative, and it actually stopped me from romanticizing 70s new age so much. As Ackerman speaks, you get a definite feel for new age music as a product of 70s granola culture, which will never have any real hipness factor outside of certain parts of Tales of the City. It reinforces the notion of this music being born to serious-minded people for "people on a journey." I approach it just as music, and it's decent music. This particular album is definitely not Windham Hill's best, rather "new age with a little bit of shame."
Review by Shlomo Slackerman |