JON ANDERSON - (1997) The Promise Ring

I’m gonna rate this album highly, even madly, with all its light-breeze and little substantial character, because it is a beautiful album among expressions that can’t resemble the melomanic inspiration, because it’s a silent art among all the rustling confusions that pretend the same thing, because it’s got air whilst many of the side music explicative orientation by Anderson is toxin-age or low-fusion, because I simply like it (and even very much, to all the surprising effects or compromising euphoria’s brew) out of many that aren’t indescribably out of a liking, out of a significance. This album, made in piece with the melody rock, the new-age promising features and the Yes frontman’s pulsating clique, expresses its music late, solitary and also featureless, given that Jon Anderson has already a tight, hectic, incomparable and insoluble discography of pop music, age melody, new-style symbolism, currant mystic acts, ambient monody and rock deprivation. Giving all those, The Promise Ring can’t cure an apathy I have for Jon Anderson being even close to referential, either anyhow but eluded by favoritism into the progressive soloist rhythms, or that I tend to conservatory appreciate and “recommend” for the interested, the curios or the good fans. Instead, in a moment that lost its matter and its importance, plus in a new vibration that simply needs to work, instead of breaking any language of special frivolities, the album is made for picturesque and clipping dance music, for joyful emotions and for the kind of expected pallor Jon Anderson should have actually showed, brilliant, all the time. The chosen personal motive of The Promise Ring is exquisite, simply by excluding the obscure, the plastic, the artificial, the new-age rough teach or the mastiff common mistakes of Jon Anderson and his pale surround; mind-blowing, instead, some old spice, some clean music relation and the belief in good, powerful, attractive and timeless.

Admittedly, therefore, this album is a weak shade of prog rock, personal rock and loveable cheerful music (and craft, let’s clear out the passion). But the sense and the bright music of it is constantly valorous. I remember my depression of listening to Jon Anderson in such bad leitmotifs or inconsistent ambiance beings cleared, like a passionate veil, by this rocking, dancing and publishing melody intuition and emotion. Basically the music is a reflection of special music and inviting groove, but insightful moves makes it a lost art, a kind warm reflection and, who knows, a forgiving late eclecticism. Music is, roughly, an ensemble of charismatic of Irish (I hope I don’t screw the actual orientation) songs and dance-melodies, full of accent sparks, off acoustic “authentic” musical forms and of inspired rock-off melody-sink choice galore. But, more shapely, Jon Anderson paced down all his excitements into music moments of charisma, of quite rustle, of insipid sharp reflections, of dreamy harmonies and of glancing moody vibrations. Facing the music of soul, whatever the cost of solitary sound, pint-pub splatter excitement (the atmosphere, truly, does create a rustic form of singing aloud, pipe-driving heartedly or so…which is curios, but slightly misprinted too), facing the light of creation, whatever the superficial stand for it is. Sounds promising all the way and, trustworthy, few are the moments that are uncelebrated and forced into such a rhythm and such a melody-search. Few are the fake forms, despite Jon Anderson almost staying Jon Anderson, the musician behind his box of delightful simple minims.

The Promise Ring is far from art, from excellent music or from the tenacious looking progressive spirit. Yet a renounced sadism to all the fret is made by enjoying the music and taking the highly-inspiriting (probably the best emotion and quality) disposition as a humorous, enjoyable or transcendental (non new-age mentality) ravel and wrap. The small music pieces invoke passion and promise: melancholy, dynamic-dances, sweet accents, pint-beats, love dedications, rustic emotions, field-poems, fresh air music, acoustic (if not a traditional point added) improvised instrumentality (mostly violins, pipes, string-guitars, harmonicas and so), full of brightness lyrics and characteristic vocals (who characterizes the accent, but makes a pop-dangle music, with refrains and vibrations), emotions and shudders, flingers and affairs, dikes and the turn-twist of an entertainment. Sounds fun and pleasant, sounds simple and subtle, sounds voluptuous and mystic. The exaggerated cords on everything that’s made out of spirit, accented music and personal flavor is the only impassible thing to accord, as a listener; meaning that not even this would be an expected rock expression or a courageous composition. But the fever, the low-night relaxation and the tangent warm heart of it is something that attracts, that stays simple and clean, that mundane the complex itself and the vicious (or the inexperienced) out-self.

To refrain my emotions and my sizable admiration for this album, it’s close to safe to say that Jon Anderson is questionable in most of his music, questionable as standard, as new-age peril artificiality and as the ambient mystic hard to like or confusing to taste, questionable enough for this album, however light-headed and powerless, to shine and glow, warmly, profoundly, relaxingly, vainly . Three shining simple stars, meaning quite “a must” occasional Anderson music. The rest is silence and sophistication of humble senseless cost.

Studio Album, released in 1997

Track Listings

1. Born to Dance (3:59)
2. Flowers of the Morning (4:17)
3. Timing of the Known (5:31)
4. True Life Song (4:18)
5. Are You? (3:46)
6. My Sweet Jane (3:35)
7. True Hands of Fate (5:20)
8. The Promise Ring (5:30)
9. O'er (3:02)

Total Time: 39:18
Line-up/Musicians

- Jon Anderson / vocals, producer
- John Bartlet / guitar
- Pete Morin / mandolin
- Peter Richardson / mandolin
- Chris Scott / flute
- Gary Atkinson / Fiddle
- Dave Dewees / mandolin, Penny Whistle
- Marty Lau / drums
- Dave Lewicki / mandolin
- Mary McCluskey / Dulcimer, Fiddle
- Karen Peterson / flute, guitar, orchestration
- Jane Luttenberger Anderson / vocals
- Adam Hunter / Bodhran
- Alan Dick / violin
- Julie Cooper / Fiddle
- Paul Welch / guitar