Eric Chenaux Sloppy Ground by: Ed Butler Tue:10-Jun-08 Label: Constellation Year: 2008 WB rating 75 out of 100

Not to be pejorative towards Eric Chenaux, or his sophomore album, but Sloppy Ground is about as apt a moniker as you’ll get. The rambling, ramshackle nature of Chenaux’s music could never be more appropriately described. Sounding uncannily similar to a Canadian equivalent of Glen Hansard of The Frames, and his backing sounding much like a drunken (but not raucously so) equivalent of the same band, woozy violins and all, Chenaux has crafted what is, upon reflection, an idiosyncratically beautiful record.

Known primarily for his unique, improvisational guitar stylings in his hometown of Toronto, Chenaux has, in Sloppy Ground, refrained from confining himself to one specific sound. Instead, he floats between experimental alt-country, breezy folk, early-70s psychedelic rock and jazzy improvisations, combining many, if not all, of the various musical influences he has absorbed over the course of his 20-odd years as a Toronto indie music stalwart.

Chenaux doesn’t always create music so much as a collection of disparate sounds which, if you cock your head to one side just so and squint REALLY hard, manage to coalesce into unique, yet strangely beautiful melodies. Opening track ‘Am I Lovely’, with its conspicuously absent question mark, is the perfect example. There appears to be no compulsion to obey any conventional notions of folk, verses ending mid-way as a gentle, meandering guitar-violin interplay interrupts gracefully and holds centre stage for a solid minute or so. Then, just as suddenly and mysteriously, Chenaux picks up the verse where he left off.

It should sound absurd, but possibly Chenaux’s greatest skill is to invite the listener to share his particularly distinctive approach to music, to partake in the ramshackle parlour games, and mid-stanza digressions into gypsy-folk are made all the more palatable for it. Easing into ‘Love Don’t Change’, another side of Chenaux unveils itself; a slightly off-balance Ben Harper, wheezy vocals included, blues rhythms and Hendrix-like free-jazz guitar solos abounding. Once again, it seems wildly inappropriate, but, with Chenaux as guide, the process is surefooted and reassuring.

The ride gets no smoother from there on in, ‘Have I Lost My Eyes’ seeing the band electing to distort a sitar, perhaps trying to out-LSD George Harrison (successfully, one might add), or ‘Boon Harp’, recalling nights spent at the Grandparents’ watching the Edinburgh Military Tattoo. But stoned. With a vocoder. Chenaux apparently understands the need to let the listener unwind – having to radically alter perceptions and expectations with each track is a perfect way to alienate prospective fans.

So, with that in mind, tracks like ‘Arms, Legs and Moonlight’ are utterly perfect. It’s a gem. Faintly reminiscent of a rootsy, bourbon-soaked rendition of Radiohead’s ‘Sail to the Moon’, its slothful pace, brushed drums and intertwining guitar parts are bewitching, a breath of fresh air on an album already at risk of hyper-oxygenation.

Closing on the title track, Chenaux opts to gently fade with a new genre, retrieving the fiddle, turning ‘Sloppy Ground’ into a Gaelic ballad. Few Canadians would have the gumption to poach sounds from four continents, but Eric Chenaux, with the confidence that only two decades of diligent toil on the local music circuit can bestow, is an ideal guide for the initiate to traverse his particularly rugged, but equally beautiful, musical terrain.