Great Horned Owl - Longyear (Crooked Antler)

The Slow Music Movement
Jun 25
2 min read

The album cover for Great Horned Owl's Longyear LP, featuring a sandy dune landscape under a blue sky with grass and shrubs. Vertical beige strip on left with owl graphic and album text.

Basing himself in Portland, part of the verdant Pacific Northwest, Vanderson Langjahr has been soaking up the natural beauty surrounding him and wrapping its vistas and his personal musings into song form for the last thirteen years under his Great Horned Owl moniker.

A slightly hazy photo of Great Horned Owl (aka Vanderson Langjahr) in a plaid shirt stands in a lush, green forest, with sunlight filtering through the trees, creating a serene atmosphere.

The album starts in genteel style, his acoustic guitar refrain setting an easy, relaxed vibe as the brushed and caressed percussion sets an ambling tempo. Langjahr soaks up the tune for a bit before starting his domestic tale in his trademark, disarmingly down to earth and easy manner, before upping the tempo for a toe tapping finish to this refreshing lengthy seven minute tune. "Disappear" sees him stripping away the atmospherics for a more thoughtful, slightly more melancholic acoustic elegy, and so the album continues. This is not your pre-Friday nigh out soundtrack.

Instruments are stroked rather than pounded, and he's got a real talent for layering and weaving man and machine into soft, acoustic led folktronica that won't upset the purists whilst attracting those that realise that folk has always, and should always, evolve. Highlights include the no less thoughtful but gently swaying, "Sadie", the affairs of the hear regaling, "Where Are We Now?"; the surprising, droning, minimal instrumental palette cleansing, "The Dark Room" and the slide heavy, microdosed duet, "Annie I'm leaving" with Marissa Nadler no less.

Just as you thought you knew what to expect and to be honest if you like the album opener you'll dig the whole LP, Langjahr drops the folk rocking title track to round things off and get you off the sofa and waving your lighter in the air. Apart from that if languid, somewhat wistful, subtly electronic injected folk with earthy, relatable tales are the order of the day then Great Horned Owl will see you right. He's in no hurry and neither should you be whilst listening.