Pearls Before Swine - Balaklava (Album Review)

 

Pearls Before Swine - Balaklava

(1968)

My copy: 1968 press by ESP Disk.

A staunch anti-war statement as expressed immediately within the cover’s depiction of The Triumph Of Death, the second full-length from singer-songwriter Tom Rapp and co. (conversely to its artwork) embraces peaceful and fragile sounds as a means of protest. 

Opening with a historical recording of a trumpeter who actually served at the battle of Balaclava in the mid 19th century, the record spins a conceptual yarn from the very beginning. 

“Translucent Carriages” is methodical and moody, with layered hallucinogenic whispers flowing between Rapp’s haunting, natural vibrato delivery. The music breathes patiently, in and out, borrowing from folk but also stripping back to better suit thematic concepts. Peaceful birdsong and flute build a maternal backdrop for the echoing hippie-friendly poetry of “Images Of April,” where “There Was A Man” indulges in traditional songwriting conventions with compelling storytelling over acoustic guitar. The less interesting sonic passages are elevated by Rapp’s imaginative lyrics and eccentric voice, his folklore spanning both references to classical literature and original allegories on death and love. 

The creative ambient chiming waves on “I Saw The World” help to vary up the music, working in piano and strings to paint a sort of optimistic mysticism - reflecting a culture that clearly revered holistic philosophies. “Guardian Angels” plays like a romantic tragedy, with a tasteful drama and lo-fi production style that befits early radio-plays. Covering Leonard Cohen now, “Suzanne” turns exotic and warm, inviting lulling woodwinds to drive home sentiments on unrequited love. The most interesting tune lies in the semi-dissonant “Lepers And Roses,” where elevated chamber pop lays hand-in-hand with minstrel music. Rapp is like some wise bard, dictating quietly through the smoky atmosphere of strings and tambourine. 

Perhaps the most fascinating addition is the sweltering ode to Tolkien “Ring Thing,” that even borrows an excerpt from the classic fantasy series to drive home its bagpipe-adorned musical prophecy. In a final thematic pitch, the entire record is rapidly rewound - resetting to “Trumpeter Landfrey” once again. 

Often overshadowing the compositions is Rapp’s voice and lyrics - with an unconventional sound that might turn some away initially. Upon multiple visits, the musical subtlety ties nicely into the rich-but-subdued storytelling, driving Balaklava into more convincing territory.