Review of The Harrow and The Harvest by Gillian Welch

I feel as if I’ve waited a lifetime for a new album from Gillian Welch and even longer for one that moved me like Time (The Revelator). And after eight long years of their need for perfection and periods of frustration, Gillian Welch and David Rawlings have at last delivered a fine, ten course regalement for her fans to savor. While many musicians may succumb to the pleadings of their fans, Gillian was commonly unsatisfied with the quality of the tracks they were composing, and she was dedicated to releasing only that which she found to be of sincere quality. It was this professional poise that brought about what Gillian calls the most unified collaboration ever created between she and her guitar whisperer, David Rawlings.  Gillian’s perception of The Harrow and The Harvest rings true as the practically ordained duo makes their interconnectedness evident with seamless transitions between and composite communion together.

In accordance with her previous four releases, Gillian candidly delves into the struggles of the laboring class while also openly sifting through her own sensibilities to enhance her kinship to a broader human condition. At times, Rawlings guitar riffs are almost too pleasantly reminiscent of previously recordings, but he does ripple into novel experiment ion with the nimble cadence of "Down Along the Dixie Line" and the subtle percuss in "Scarlett Town".  There is no real need for too much deviation when his meticulous fingerpicking in alignment with Gillian’s innate sense of vocal effect is what we have come to expect. Throughout this album, Gillian’s frail, haunting voice carries us through themes of crumbling losses, destructive cravings, languid remorse, begotten promises, and arcane mysteries. This album also dons one of her most hopeful tracks to date, which is ironically entitled "Hard Times". Though this may sound overwhelmingly depressing to a listener unfamiliar with her courageous realism, Gillian instinctively purls notes until they wade into the recesses of the soul where they may commiserate and pacify the deepest longings and regrets.