In 1969, a guy named George Stavis released Labyrinths, a trailblazing, trippy solo banjo record full of folk, jazz, and raga instrumentals. A decade later, Béla Fleck began his recording career and helped establish the jam rock-infused genre of newgrass. The current era brings us banjo man Nathan Bowles, whose level of relative renown lies somewhere in between the completely unknown Stavis and the iconic Fleck. His ingenuity on the instrument is comparable to both, while his style remains utterly idiosyncratic.
Virginia-bred, Durham-based Bowles has a strong folk background, but he’s always beautifully subverted those roots and taken his instrument into fresh territory. On Plainly Mistaken, Bowles is sharper than ever: Buoyed by a full rhythm section, he takes the opportunity to expand his sonic purview even further than before.
The album sets the bar high from its first track, a dreamy cover of "Now If You Remember," from British singer Julie Tippetts's 1975 progressive jazz-rock album, Sunset Glow. But with its ethereal vibe and minimalist arrangement (and Bowles taking one of his rare vocal turns), the track feels like it could have come off Brian Eno's Before and After Science.
While a few tracks, like the solo "Stump Sprout" and the band-backed "Elk River Blues," more clearly follow in the folk tradition, Bowles stretches out on cuts like "The Road Reversed," where he goes artfully modal over martial toms and bowed bass. The solo banjo pieces "Umbra" and "Girih Tiles" provide the album's most impressionistic, reflective moments. Things go furthest afield on the minimalist drone piece "In Kind II," while Bowles' Silver Apples-inspired cover of the forties country tune "Ruby" evolves into a frenzied psychedelic stomp. Bouncing off Plainly Mistaken, Bowles' next step could take him just about anywhere.
