Aimee Wilson

Aimee Wilson is like an alternate-reality Gillian Welch. American “roots” in country-folk are readily discernible, but her groundwaters run deeper; and from them spring sounds at once Celtic and universal, brought to fruition through the use of ancient instruments like harp, hurdy-gurdy and Chinese erdu. The best songs on Unto Us the Sun burn bright with the embers of racial memory. There is something primal and archetypal afoot in the chanted closing of “Celebration” and the strange inevitability with which it occurs. On “Down Came a Rock” and “Suri”, Wilson’s voice quavers like the faintly heard spirits of lost civilizations.

The album is disappointing only to the extent that the more conventionally arranged tracks break the spell, catapulting the listener back into the grim realities of 21st century America, which means, in essence, that Unto Us the Sun works best when its musical universe is at its most self-contained. As for possible points of reference: the Incredible String Band at its most cosmic and beautiful (they were a folk band after all), Donovan’s occasional trips into the mystic (“Roots of Oak”), and Loreena McKennitt (to bring things at least moderately more up to date) all come to mind.

But it is ultimately more difficult to single out similar-sounding predecessors than it is to simply recommend the album. For it is to be hoped that Ms. Wilson finds a fan base sufficient to put her Sun on the map.
(7/10 stars) - PopMatters

Stoic harps, nomadic pianos and rumbling tympanis weave tentative sentiments around weathered memories; the dappled, magical, “Sun,” circles and skirts elaborate madrigals, emergent dirges and Saxon ballads exploring flaxen passages beneath macramé mazes. Dramatic chamber-jazz tactics open brooding moods as spiritual pilgrim Wilson surrenders to indigenous mysteries spun from elusive truths hiding intangible challenges for hypnotic frolics and discerning journeys.
(5/5 stars) - Maximum Ink

High on a mountain over a sea of clouds, singer-songwriter Aimee Wilson heard a song.

“I lived alone on the east brow of Lookout Mountain and had a lot of time to write,” Wilson recalls, looking back over the genesis of Unto Us the Sun (release: August 28, 2012). “I didn’t quite know what I was writing at the time. I was literally parallel to the clouds, and it was all fairly subliminal, carrying both the darkness and that burst of praise you find in nature.”

Composing on both sitar and guitar, and inspired by the Sacred Harp tradition, Wilson’s music bursts with fresh sounds and vivid engagement with one of America’s oldest musical traditions and with a deeply felt spirituality. She has cut her own path through the wilderness, through the rocky corridors of Philly women’s safe havens (audible in songs like “Royalene”) or the woods and streams of the rural South.

Joined by instruments from the Chinese erhu fiddle to the hurdy gurdy, along with a full Sacred Harp-style vocal ensemble, Wilson’s lush, second full-length album ebbs and flows, united by her delicate yet urgent voice and straightforward, poetic lyrical visions. In complex, globally inflected songs, she chronicles nature’s vivid outbursts, our shared struggles for hope and connection, and the paradoxes that birth real joy.

She and her full ensemble will perform to celebrate their collaboration in Philadelphia and New York this September.

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“My music is a dialogue with God, as I understand him. It’s a way of getting to something more than myself,” Wilson muses. “It’s this instinctual reaching and listening that’s happening through me.”

Wilson’s prayerful yearnings grow from deep roots, including the Sacred Harp tradition still practiced by singing groups across the U.S., a practice that uses specific notation and a striking approach to harmony and vocal production. Wilson not only included a haunting tune from this repertoire (“Detroit”), but also had a Sacred Harp expert and teacher, Aldo Ceresa, write new parts for several songs on Unto Us the Sun.

“Some shape note tunes date from around the age of Mozart,” Wilson explains. “It’s some of the oldest American music there is, a hidden jewel. And there is so much power in the tunes. I’ve seen them draw in complete strangers off the street who’ve happened by a shape-note sing.”

This stunning power, which runs beautifully through tracks like “Crux” and “Suri,” contrasts with Wilson’s flickering, compelling voice and intense arrangements. And like many tunes in the Sacred Harp, Wilson’s songs know no irony, but remain utterly committed, shifting boldly from grounded introspection to otherworldly, soaring possibility.

“The songs just erupt in certain moments,” Wilson smiles.

To create them, Wilson drew on her years studying literature and diving into life, working with at-risk women at a safe haven in Philly. “I started realizing what I was learning from the women I got to know there,” Wilson remembers. “I had just gone through a loss myself before I started working at this shelter. There was something healing about being around others who couldn’t hide their heartbreak, who could have that honest and courageous conversation. I’d hear something in my head as I was going about my day. When I had a chance, I’d grab the instrument and work it out.”

Sometimes, the instrument she picked up was her guitar, but often it was the sitar, an instrument Wilson discovered as part of her fascination with Hindu bhajans (Indian devotional songs). It just happened to fit her vocal range perfectly, and proved particularly inspiring as songs came to her. “I ended up composing on the sitar more, because my strongest vocal key is C# major, the standard sitar tuning,” she explains. “You can get lost in one or two chords, and it just felt more in line with how my voice moves. There are limits with the guitar, but the sitar takes me a bit further.”

“I never really know what I’m writing when I begin,” Wilson reflects. “It’s as if an inner voice is trying to work itself out in song. At its core, my music is celebrating life and delving for a deeper humanness.” - rock paper scissors, inc.

Aimee Wilson spent a lot of time up in the Northwest corner of Georgia as she worked on her latest release, Unto Us the Sun. “I lived alone on the east brow of Lookout Mountain and had a lot of time to write,” says Wilson. “I didn’t quite know what I was writing at the time. I was literally parallel to the clouds, and it was all fairly subliminal, carrying both the darkness and that burst of praise you find in nature.” This inspirational mountain setting gave life to Unto Us the Sun which combines one of America’s oldest musical traditions with an array of instruments including sitar, hurdy gurdy and Chinese erhu fiddle.

The Sacred Harp tradition is used to great effect on Unto Us the Sun. This style of shape note singing was developed many years ago and is one of the oldest forms of American music. The Sacred Harp refers to the voice; everyone’s personal musical instrument. The shapes and notes on the music staff designate degrees of the scale, not particular pitches. Typically the music is sung a cappella in a group, but Aimee brought instruments and voices together on this record.

“Some shape note tunes date from around the age of Mozart. It’s some of the oldest American music there is, a hidden jewel. And there is so much power in the tunes. I’ve seen them draw in complete strangers off the street who’ve happened by a shape-note sing.” – Aimee Wilson

The group vocals leave a lasting impression on this album. A perfect example is “Celebration,” which starts off with a solo guitar and Wilson’s tender voice. The song picks up when the band comes in with percussion, acoustic bass and crashing cymbals. The music ebbs and flows like the sea; calm and chaotic all at once. The powerful vocals shake the song and create a haunting tension as it builds to the finale. “Down Came a Rock” explores a number of global grooves as fiddle, cello, guitar and percussion round out an extended instrumental ending. The unaccompanied voices are astonishing on “Detroit,” a song taken from the Sacred Harp repertoire that shows how moving this music is. Sample some of the tracks above and catch Aimee Wilson and her Sacred Harp Ensemble at Drom on September 7th for her CD release show. - Splinters and Candy

Aimee Wilson’s new album is inspired by the Sacred Harp, a Protestant tradition of unaccompanied vocal singing that can be heard here in its uncut form in the traditional “Detroit”. The other songs here are her own, and the Sacred Harp singing is set against the playing of her band, including hurdy-gurdy and Chinese erhu, and Wilson’s own singing, thick, quivering in ecstasy and utterly committed. (4/5 stars) -Financial Times - Financial Times

In “Unto Us the Sun,” Aimee Wilson gives us music that is primal and full of awe, songs that see as ancient as the foundations of the world. She draws from diverse musical roots, from Sacred Harp choral music to Persian and Middle Eastern rhythms and melodic lines, but each song is stamped with her unmistakably and utterly personal style. In some songs, gentle and simple guitar lines envelope the listener, gradually taking on exquisite layers instrumentally and vocally, sometimes building to deeply emotional crescendos. Her creative use of shifting rhythms and varying moods embody the lyrical qualities of quiet mystery, painful probing, and exultant praise. And her voice, haunting gift in itself: tremulous and yet incredibly strong.

“It is with grace that makes us human,” she sings in the opening song, “Ascent.” Many of these songs are about the journey to find that grace – a journey that takes us to places of fragility, uncertainty, deep hunger, and brokenness. “Thin Shoes” and “Royalene” both reflect Aimee’s relationship with women who experienced chronic homelessness and mental illness, and even there, in the midst of their profound suffering, she sees into the mystery of grace at work in the human struggle.

The journey also takes the listener into the wonders and delights, the storms and terrors, of Creation. Her songs are echoes of the songs she hears in the miracles of the world around us. The title song, “Unto Us the Sun,” unfolds musically like a sunrise, in which nature awakes into an exultant praise, inviting the listener to join in a chorus of mystical rapture. “Celebration” evokes a sublime dance of nature, and we are invited to join in primal rhythms.

Aimee Wilson’s songs invite us on the journey. And they invite us to the celebration – of the deep truth of who we are, which is enveloped in grace.

/ by Will O'Brien and Dee Dee Risher, 2012. - The Factorye