Don’t Let Me Fall Too Far is the eleventh release by flautist/looper Rozalind MacPhail in collaboration with multimedia group Industrial Parks. It is an adaptation of the soundtrack contributed to the short, but otherwise silent film HOMELESS; an audio-visual project and collaboration with Industrial Parks that tells a young woman’s story of self-discovery as she navigates through a vulnerable point in her life.
The experimental film incorporates street photography, animation, spoken word, and live improvised music; which the record synthesizes into a songwriting piece intended to be taken on the road solo.
By MacPhail’s own admission, the album is an important departure from her previous work, and a significant exploration of the flute in electronic music.
“Flute is often used, yes, but not the alto flute or the piccolo. I’ve never heard of anyone including these instruments in electronic music from Canada”, she says. MacPhail plays Gemeinhardt Musical Instruments, and they have recognised her efforts with a sponsorship deal.
Perhaps unsurprisingly for a classically trained flautist, Don’t Let Me Fall Too Far opens with an instrumental overture. It’s a soundscape combining travel sounds and well-placed voice clips: “Why am I lost? – I don’t think you are lost,” which make for a simple yet effective introduction to the feeling of wandering that permeates the entire record.
The overture quickly and almost seamlessly gives way to the intro for the first track proper. “Harbour” is an interestingly structured song, seemingly building up to a resolution that never comes. The cut opens with a dramatic synth pad reminiscent of late 70s ambience textures and adorned with some great multi-tracked flute drenched in echo. An FM synth arpeggio fades in about halfway through and serves as the song’s rhythm bed in the absence of percussion. The sound design in “Harbour” is superb, and the weight and movement present in the organ track deserve special attention.
“Harbour” also introduces the listener to MacPhail’s singing, an aspect of her music that is particularly showcased in this album. “It was scary and exciting to incorporate more of my voice in this recording,” MacPhail recounts of her experience. “I was really sick at the time of recording the vocals, which made my voice an octave lower than I can normally sing. It gives them a darker and more haunting quality.”
This haunting quality is reflected in the whole of the vocal production by engineer and co-producer Terry Barrow. It reminds me of the type of ethereal sound explored by artists like Kate Bush. The delivery itself has an airy, fragile character that serves as a good complement to both style and subject matter.
The actual resolution “Harbour” seeks comes with “Homeless,” presumably the central song of the record. “Homeless” is the first full track in the album to feature a recognizable beat, which is hinted in the interlude that separates it from “Harbour.” In fact two interludes bookend “Homeless,” and they bring cohesion to the production in a very enjoyable way.
The themes here are of exploration, exposure, and self-reflection. “For all the miles, I wonder, Is there even a trace in all the haunts I’ve haunted?” Questions of loss and the intent to find a new path are omnipresent in the record. I feel like “Homeless” could have been edited into a more compact single, but I’m rarely accused of excess patience.
The final block in the album is made up of the tracks “Alders” and “Silver Wings,” connected together by the short piece “Affirmations.” The phrasing in “Alders” features some of my favourite musical moments in the production, with creative and engaging movement present in both melody and rhythm. Spoken word fragments are used for emphasis and drama throughout the record. I think it’s tricky to nail the right vibe for making speech work within a song, and sometimes I found myself wishing it was used more sparingly (like in the intro to “Alders”) while other times I almost cheered in approval (like in the outtro to “Alders”).
“Silver Wings” brings the record to a close with some great flute work and a delightfully subversive opening line that states, “This land is [not] your land.” The end dissolves leaving nothing but the faint echoes of MacPhail’s flute and the distant sounds of breaking waves fading in. A fitting conclusion to a very cohesive vision.
Overall, Don’t Let Me Fall Too Far offers a rich and soothing aural experience that pulled me in deep. The broad range of emotions explored is perhaps informed by MacPhail’s own reflections on her instrument.
“The flute is such a versatile instrument,” says MacPhail. “I have played with punk bands, rock bands, blues artists, in jazz, hip hop, with singer-songwriters, and with loads of electronic music producers. It can be melodic but it can also be rhythmic, colourful, sexy, angry, haunting and sad.
“Looping through Ableton Live has been a great way for me to perform solo but still have a full sound of a band. I often call looping my ticket to being on a one woman orchestra adventure. It was always my dream of performing solo in front of the orchestra and I found a different way to do just that. I will probably loop for the rest of my life. It’s very addictive and super fun.”
The idea of this record being intended for live looping performance by a solo artist continues to haunt my listening experience; I really want to see that show. Luckily Rozalind MacPhail has a busy calendar of upcoming shows in Europe and North America.
Tour Dates:
08.01-04.19 – Salt Lake City, UT @ National Flute Convention
08.30.19 – Rytternegården, Sweden
08.31.19 – Västerås, Sweden @ Live at Heart
09.01-08.19 – Örebro, Sweden @ Live at Heart
09.09-11.19 – Umeå Musikskola, Sweden @ Umeå Musikskola
09.21-22.19 – Sønderborg, DK @ Sønderborg Statsskole
09.26-29.19 – Charlottetown, PE @ Contact East