#the ruby cord

Following “The Hermit”’s journey demands patience. The first ten minutes of the song’s 40 minutes are tentative and instrumental, allowing the players to introduce themselves. There’s Dawson on guitar, Rhodri Davies on harp, Angharad Davies on violin, and Andrew Cheetham on drums. The music feels oddly suspended in time, as if humans from the future have discovered old instruments and are reacquainting themselves with how to use them. After ten minutes, Dawson’s voice enters and the song picks up pace, spinning a tale of a man reawakening to a new place in the world, foraging for sustenance amid the ruins of civilisation. 

On the heartbreaking “Thicker Than Water,” the hermit discovers his parents, strapped into a virtual-reality set-up: 

“With my bare fists, I smash the screens

Pull their drips out, and fling away their goggles

I am in bits

Half-expecting them to wake

But nothing changes

I'll just have to find another way to reach them”

 “The Fool” is enriched by squelching electronics, its demented stomp coming across like a steam-punk version of Madness. Though “The Museum” is superficially a very pretty, folk-inflected tune, led by Davies’ harp and Dawson’s acoustic guitar arpeggios, its lyrics paint a grim picture. While traditional museums offer the opportunity to explore the material remnants of past civilisations, in Dawson’s dystopian future museum, humans are extinct. Instead, this museum is “Bustling with projected people / Bound in hoops of light forevermore.” On “The Tip of an Arrow,” the characters re-learn the craftsmanship necessary to create bows and arrows, their industry soundtracked by an anxious canter. Closer “Horse and Rider” seems to be told from the perspective of a horse being led to its destruction by its short-sighted human rider, yet its musical backing is jaunty and hopeful. 

This is The Ruby Cord’s curious, compelling magic: though the story being told is one of folly and failure, Dawson sees a potential way forward by turning back to old ways of living we’ve left behind. Though this is far from an easy listen, and can be frustratingly wordy and repetitive at times, it’s a rich, admirable and thorny work of art. Invest the necessary attention in this record and it’ll reward in spades.