The front door swings open with a slow creak. This prohibition-era farmhouse hovering above the California cliffs had forced your car off the road and into park and now you find yourself peering into a house not quite alive though certainly not yet dead. Stroll past the front passage into the parlor where you find the huddled, shivering members of Calexico gathered, warming themselves by a flaming pile of broken furniture, peglegs, barstools and a ship’s wheel. Further on into the kitchen you spy the lingering shadows where Charlie Parker shared a long-cold coffee cup with Mark Kozelic. A stream of smoke from the mouth of Tom Waits points you down the stairs where, intrepid, you peer into the long-forgotten world of Ray’s Vast Basement. John Bernson, as much writer as musician, is behind the bar waiting to pour you a drink and tell you about his world.
This is the scene I entered when embarking on the ‘musical fiction’ that is Ray’s Vast Basement’s album, By a River Burning Blue. Conceived by Mission resident, John Bernson, the album is based on the fictional story of a speakeasy housed in a cave on California's coast and the history that surrounds it. Many of the songs on this album are related to the fictional town of Drakesville and its inhabitants. The music is captivating. Alternating between folk ballads, spoken word, sea chanteys, and Americana, By A River Burning Blue still sounds like a fully cohesive concept -- and a thoroughly enjoyable one at that. A large crew of local musicians lend their talents, which creates intriguing orchestration (the rasping violins on "Catriona" are nothing short of heartbreaking). And the lyrics are a book waiting to be written: whimsical, historic, and with a taste of the macabre. Not to gush, but seriously, I haven't been lost in an album like this in a while.
Descend the staircase my friends and order a drink. The music is intoxicating.