Lee Underwood: California Sigh

Lee Underwood's late father played trombone in a big band at the University of Colorado. Underwood recalls, "Whenever he thought of those days, my dad would close his eyes, purse his lips, and extend his right hand as if still playing this beloved trombone." Lee himself became a high-school jazz pianist, but caught his break as a guitarist, playing for Tim Buckley throughout the singer's turbulent and tragic career.

Buckley's untimely death in 1975 saw Underwood pursue a new vocation in music journalism, interviewing the likes of McCoy Tyner, not to mention everyone in Miles Davis's band except Davis himself. In the late 1980s, Underwood recorded a cassette album, California Sigh, which lay dormant until Chicago label Drag City offered a plush double vinyl reissue in summer 2024.

Inspired by the Colorado rivers and forests that Underwood roved with his wife Sonia, this mostly acoustic album brings a homely sense of peace and renewal. Catchy flurries and scurries overlap into a series of amorous cycles, all pealing with pin sharp purity thanks to Underwood's favoured Martin D-28. Underwood uses both plectrum and fingerpicking styles, his refrains flowing freely, though the main intent is taking the listener into a state of mental tranquility. Some albums with a kindred vibe might include Pat Metheny's What's It All About (Nonesuch 2011), Ralph Towner's My Foolish Heart (ECM 2017) and My Goal's Beyond by John McLaughlin (Douglas, 1971). Espen Eriksen's piano work resides in a similar landscape of summery murmurs and shadows.

"Gentle Rain" gets us off to a rolling hypnotic start, a reminder of how water is the most musical of all the elements. With its ceaseless rippling the piece tunes in with awe to nature's copious timbres. Indeed, there is real beauty in the natural rhythm of Underwood's guitar work throughout California Sigh. "Seaview" is overlaid with a breath of sighing synth, while "Portals Of The Heart" adds a Spanish tinge to its bell-toned harmonics.

Elsewhere, "Lady Of The Streams" builds on some lapping field recordings into a grand piece of sultry ragtime. "The Other Side Of Sunny" features the melting tenderness of Kevin Braheny's soprano sax, whereas "Little Desert Cat Feet" and "Quietude Oasis" are two immersive explorations, like the chimes from an underwater cathedral. There is also a meaty thrum to Underwood's glistening chords on the title track and "Venice 68," despite a prevalent aura of calm.

But not quite everything on this album is bathed in cloudless skies. During the intricate torrent of "Midnight Blue" Underwood creates a frisson of fear, a tribute to the darker side. His forceful fingers let each note hammer out with a real downpouring force, like Paco de Lucia playing Domenico Scarlatti. Right after this comes "Aspen Trails" with lonesome pedal steel under its rustic melody, a piece so devoutly pastoral it could turn the hardest urbanite into a forest bather.

The physical realm dissolves into something more spiritual across this memorable album. Each track leaves a fresh tingling sensation, as if one's fingers are trailing lazily in Underwood's crystal acoustic streams.