Fat-Cat Rec. 
David Karsten Daniels : Fear Of Flying (US,2008)****'
David Karsten’s latest release brings it (only) moodily closer to Palace/Bonnie “Prince” Billie territory. Sadly mourning with his piercing and focused to the subject’s voice, consciously complaining, being aware of his mortal position, and of where he comes from (family-related) to where we might land (later). A child might have asked the same questions from his position, differently, while this is a second chance to overlook it all from an independently growing position. For a child, the parent’s position of a grown up man, with his ideals (backed by moral and who knows religion) was it’s goal, but when he reached the point for his own choices, while in theory the sky is the limit, as if we already reach to heavens, try to become angels, on our own steps in reality we face the limits.
The arrangements are, like with all Fat-Cat releases, perfect, and subtle, with a perfect production for the songs. It’s incredible how soft some instruments linger in the background, like the softly appearing mellotron on “Wheelchairs”, appearing like a softening cry in a rhythm like breathing, nothing more is needed to his voice and guitar’s enfolding sigh. A bit of cello and female backing vocals grow as arrangements with the consciousness of the song. A brilliant opener. With the same calmness, but already rockier (the chair position), “That knot unties” is arranged with amplified guitars (and a bit of banjo/subtle orchestration), drumming and sax arrangement. “Martha Ann”, additionally add similar orchestrated arrangements, attractively rocking (with Hammond organ and electric guitar solos). This still song-expressively strong, arranged rock mode continues in “Falling Down”, here with a pompom-attractive rhythmical drive in it. “A Myoclonic Jerk” has some beautifully unfolding first almost classical swirling arrangements, then rocks again harder and electrically. A calmer moment resides after this, with beautifully resonating slided strings, a most meditative-experimental moment of sonic contemplation. The short “Everytime a baby is born” is a bit more new-Americana styled, still with beautiful interesting arrangements, and still is presented as another contemplative thought. It is as if realizing a pattern : “everytime a baby’s born”… “The Caretaker” is just voice and guitar, nothing more is needed at this moment in the album. A bit of an annoying, but luckily short moment (but it’s part of the reality) is a song which is presented and sung with friends under the form of a sort of (cynical) bar song called “Oh, heaven isn’t real”, a compensating realization that the thought about heaven is there to make you feel more comfortable, while the song just laughs this last idea a bit away. “In my child mind you were a lion”, seems, also musically back to the starting point of the album, but with more sadness in his voice. As a child the first projection to where the future lay might have been more positive, now grown realistic in growing up, the reality is more painful. Great emotional electric guitars near the end express this from full heart. The concluding song, “Evensong” with crickets in the background seems to add some note of forgiveness, while leaving the last thoughts in a beautiful bluesy folk version, to a prayer, (with some orchestrated background appearing like voices from far away attending), but still, with the same crickets as the last voice.
While David’s previous album and its cover scared me and made me take it with some restraint, I am glad I took enough time for this album to unfold for me its realisations and creative expressions involved. A recommended album.
