Fallow

 

Wait, what's this!? A Pool of Siloam blog post!?

Ok folks, I am guilty of being one of those people that starts a blog, writes about 2 posts, then has no commitment to the cause, and never again...…but, here I am - back to try again! 

I never forgot about Pool of Siloam. I've just been a little busy. I've been busy working on releasing an album you see! And I wanted to tell you all about it because it might hit the spot for some of you who first started reading. It might not but hopefully that doesn't put you off Pool of Siloam as I hope to find some time amidst album promotion, gigging once again, and taking a break (!) to get this blog back in action. 

So, what's this album I've gone and made then? 

Well, I've already been releasing music under the guise of Liana Condor for a few years now and I've been sitting on a fair amount of material, but it wasn't until a global pandemic hit that I was incredibly fortunate to have some time to make an album. I was placed on furlough for four months in April-July 2020 which allowed me to basically be paid to do what I love - making music. It was a strange time because all the while no one knew quite how long this would go on for and whilst having lots of free time and still being partially paid was really quite wonderful, after months of this, it was easy to forget this fact and days would blur into weeks. But it wasn't forever. Which was great. Except it meant I had to go back to work and spend so much less time trying to get this album over a self-made, ever-changing finish line. Hence, it's been a while since I last posted here.

If you've not listened to any Liana Condor before, I describe it to people as a one-man band exploring faith, doubt, emotional fragility with a loop pedal. I draw inspiration from the worlds of acoustic pop, worldbeat, cumbia, and math rock to create what Analogue Trash described as "some mesmerising sounds". That was really nice of them. 

This album that I've gone and made is a collection of the songs I've been working on over the past few years all riddled with an an angst-ridden call for us to reflect, debate, and lament upon emotional fragility, religious belief amidst doubt, and humanity’s destructive tendencies. I wrote a poem to go alongside the album. It goes like this:

Today I walk on fallowed ground
Scorched and bruised till kingdoms come
My soul in wake for just a sound
To beckon in that sacred hum
Of work to be done 

I may try
(Lord, don't we try)
But when my heart was rushed to beat
I lost the rhythm and felt the heat
Of hell's burning greed 

So sit me down and ask me when
Did my soul become so high
That I dare not rest? 

Sit you down and ask when
Did your soul become so high
That you dare not rest? 

Today we walk on hallowed ground
Fallowed earth by Kingdom come
Now in rest without a sound
To beckon in that sacred hum 

Of rest to be done

Amidst the pandemic, I think we've all had much time to reflect and the biggest reflection I've had is that the speed at which we have lived our lives is not sustainable. For ourselves. For each other. For the earth. The sheer pace of modern life leaves us with little space to stop and be present. And most importantly, to rest. And I mean actually rest. Not just spending a day binging Squid Game (which I thought was fine. But Battle Royale did it all before).

Rest is one of those biblical commandments that post-industrialised Christianity struggles to take seriously. Churches are obsessed with events. Those in leadership are on the edge of burnout. And those in the comfy cinema seats look to "convert" people fast enough to keep the doubt at bay. I find myself stuck in all this madness, perhaps deconstructing, perhaps trying to find an out from capitalism, perhaps losing my faith. Whichever way I go, I'm confronted with new questions, even if I have found an answer to the initial problem. 

All around my place of tranquillity - my mustard tree, my faith, that spirit of peace - there are gods a plenty calling out for my attention. None of them are necessarily some sort of evil either. But all that noise is cause for concern, and it's about time we allowed ourselves to be fallowed; allowed ourselves to give up striving and as Richard Rohr puts it, fall into divine grace. As I've tried to put in the song Fill Me Up:

I worked and prayed every day

But nothing came, it stayed the same

So I came away with little faith

A mustard seed in need of rain

So is it your ambition to alleviate attrition

Or do you make it rain to laugh at our condition

So fill me up, fill me up with your love

Give it up, give up to above.

Fallow is my response to all of this. It's my call to the church, to the modern world, and probably most importantly, to myself to beckon in that sacred hum of rest to be done.

*****

If you have found this interesting and would like to support my music, please do consider buying a copy of the album! You can do this digitally or purchase a limited release CD using any of the links below:

Amazon

Apple Music

Bandcamp (Limited Release CD)

Here are some lovely reviews of the album so far (mostly in Spanish so get your dictionary out):

Hidoux:

"One-man-band live-looping extraordinaire" Liana Condor comes out swinging with his debut album. Fallow draws you in with the opening salvo of pretty laid-back, joyous songs, then slowly shifts to reveal a darker underbelly to the album. Frustration and anger are palpable in White Lies, whilst Screaming Endless Whisper acknowledges the arrival of the storm. Created pretty much exclusively with acoustic guitar, there's ne'er a dull moment or lack of propulsion. Made In Magnificence, indeed."

Somos Grandes:

"El cantautor inglés Liana Condor va filtrando tradiciones y folclore latino a través de la autonomía de los loops. La percusión minimalista y el riff fundamental parecen conjurar en el ritmo una cumbia sutil, llevadera y espaciosa. Debido a la naturaleza cíclica de los loops, hay una estructura y ambientación hipnótica quasi chamánica. La estructura de las letras adquieren una cualidad tipo mantra pues se mantienen dentro de una misma métrica y dicción durante la mayoría de la canción. El color peculiar de flautas peruanas amontonándose una encima de la otra, meciéndose junto a las armonías vocales y la fluidez del solo de guitarra proveen un desvío de la repetición."

Indie Criollo:

"Nos gusta que Liana Condor sepa honrar nuestras raíces. Lo hace con una mezcla ligera de su voz y detalles andinos que se sienten como una mezcla de magia y llamados para encontrarnos con la tierra y todo ese lamento luego de robos y desparpajos en nuestra historia. La ligereza de esta obra nos lleva a un instante grave de melancolía y deseo por sentir que todo se nos puede acabar en un instante mientras más entramos en el vacío de Liana, llamado Lamen for Atahualpa."

Thanks for reading and getting this far. Hope to be back soon to tell you about some more eye mud.