“Primitive” is an intriguing descriptor when marketing the lively instrumental prowess of Glenn Jones. Stylistically, Jones is an ancient bard, peddling textured six-string stories that sound as if plucked directly from the musical residue of the Appalachian Mountains. Influenced as he is in the John Fahey school of American Primitive Guitar, Jones’ skills are anything but basic. Long ago eschewing the confines of standard tuning, Jones has reinvented the standard of the picked acoustic-stringed realm, forging new aural pathways for banjo and guitar, most undeniably so on his latest collection, Fleeting.
Jones possesses the disarming ability to wring emotion from every pluck, utilizing custom capos and advanced picking techniques to flesh out fantastically alive, heady works. Much like his 2013 collection, My Garden State, Jones finds inspiration completely outside of the contemporary mire, employing bucolic environments through which to guide his muses and record them.
Beginning with “Flower Turned Inside-Out,” Jones propels his adventurous anthems with harp-like picking, generating spellbinding tones that offer calm and promise. Throughout “In Durance Vile,” you hear the minutiae of nature fluttering from outside the house where Jones and recording engineer Laura Baird set up for Fleeting, which sits by Rancocas Creek in Mount Holly, New Jersey. You actually hear rustling winds swishing through the trees and birds chirping; there were no attempts made at soundproofing the recording environment. This stroke of minimalism fits nicely with Jones’ sonic palette and attention to both the notes themselves—their malleability and willingness to whisper little stories—and the spaces between those notes, where life is still happening, chirping, blowing all around you, even if you’re making a record.