The Pentangle (Almost)

The Pentangle – The Pentangle
Reprise Records, RS 6315
Warner Brothers, New York, NY, 1968

Alright, it's been two months (almost), I kinda quit (almost), but after I bought this Pentangle record last week for only 50¢—green tags were half off—I just had to share it, it was too good (almost) to keep it to myself.  Now, I had never heard of the band Pentangle, but their two guitar players, Bert Jansch and John Renbourne, had been with me for as long as I was serious about my music I listened to. I was 16 and learning to play the guitar, and there was this John Renbourne tune I considered the apex of guitar playing. For years I'd study the piece, and I (almost) managed to conquer it. So the Pentangle are the who's who of British folk music (almost). For those of you who follow me here, or those who know me, know that I, when it comes to vocals, prefer a female voice over a male one. And I love Jaqui McShee, the singer of the Pentangle, she's like Sandy Denny (almost), but my pick to share with you today is the only instrumental piece on the album. It's not even the most virtuoso guitar playing (almost) that made me pick it, it's something I can't explain, there's just something magical about it. The track is simply called Bells, a title that rings magical—remember that great tune by the Dominoes, that one in which the lead singer burst into tears, or that fantastic free jazz gem by Albert Ayler—in Bells, the Pentangle hit that same kind of magic (almost).  For those of you who follow this blog too: you must know that my scanner bed only goes to nine inches, cutting off three from a 12"er. With the Pentangle record here this fact resulted in cutting off the P, leaving the word "entangle" behind. If one uninformed listener were to guess about the title of this record, or name of the band, he or she could well opt for the name, or title, Entangle. (That's how utterly sophisticated the rhythms and melodies of Bells unfold.) See for yourself.