November 18th, 2009
Clublist Spotlight • A Better ’Stache0 comments
November 18th, 2009
CD Reviews: MarchFourth Marching Band, Curious Hands0 comments
November 18th, 2009
Meth Teeth Sunday, Nov. 22 | Making the best of this bummer called life.0 comments
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Primer: Girls0 comments
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Sparkle And Fade | The rise and fall of Everclear and The Cherry Poppin’ Daddies.0 comments
November 11th, 2009
CD Review: The Dimes | The King Can Drink the Harbor Dry (Pet Marmoset Records)2 comments
November 11th, 2009
Finn Riggins, Friday, Nov. 13 | Finn Riggins ditched the big yellow bus, but it’s not about to ditch its home state of Idaho.0 comments
November 11th, 2009
Kelly Blair Bauman Monday, Nov. 16 | Kelly Blair Bauman sees Portland burning, and he’s got the midlife-crisis folk to soundtrack the destruction.0 comments
November 11th, 2009
Primer: Saul Williams0 comments
November 11th, 2009
Living The Dream | Portland’s Dirtnap Records just stumbled into its 10th year.2 comments
![]() IMAGE: Amy Annelle |
[January 23rd, 2008]
[PRE-FREAK FOLK] Portland’s musical landscape changes so quickly, invigorated and clouded by artists both homegrown and imported, that finding any real lineage can be a tricky prospect. Still, local legend Michael Hurley has a posse: He’s credited as an influence by a number of musicians both local (Little Sue, Pete Krebs, Amy Annelle) and national (Cat Power, Lucinda Williams, Devendra Banhart). His fan base, though, is a tad harder to pin down. On his 2007 album, The Ancestral Swamp, 66-year-old Hurley—who just as often goes by “Doc Snock”—gives us yet another reason to discover him.
If you knew nothing of the peculiar troubadour’s long history, Ancestral Swamp—out on Devendra Banhart’s Gnomonsong label—would still be a revelation. Hurley is direct and playful, delicate and powerful—an affecting songwriter with enough eccentricities to keep a listener guessing at every curve.
The album opens with “Knockando,” wherein Hurley’s voice sounds strong and sure as it climbs from damp spoken word to a wispy falsetto. An old hippie joke (“Have a glass of no-can-do”) transforms into touching natural imagery: “Can you hear/ The crackling heart/ Of the old pine wood?” Hurley asks.
There’s a sweetness in Hurley’s delivery that only age can provide. As with Johnny Cash’s American Recordings, Hurley squeezes more from these songs than a younger songwriter could (he says via his website that about half the tracks are covers, but even traditionals like “Streets of Laredo” are modified beyond familiarity). His singularity is most noticeable on sparse slow-burners like the electric piano-driven “Lonesome Graveyard” and the haunting “New River Blues,” where he sings touchingly, “Like a freed stream of light/ My heart jumped straight to you tonight.”
When Hurley is accompanied on Swamp , it’s by an all-local cast: his longtime bassist Dave Reisch (switching out with Lewi Longmire on one track) and guitarist-vocalist Tara Jane ONeil.
There’s more to say about Snocko: that he first recorded for the legendary Folkways label in 1964; that he’s included hand-drawn comics with nearly every release. But there’s plenty of time to discover all that—you’ll want to once you’ve heard Doc’s tunes.
RECENT COMMENTS ON “Michael Hurley Ancestral Swamp (Gnomonsong)”
without having background on ol' Doc Snock, nearly anyone would be entranced to go see him perform live. Hypnotic!!!












