There are a lot of ways that music can be beautiful. A lot of times, we hear something as pretty simply because we're conditioned that way. Frequently, beauty and grandeur are the result of careful planning and composing, like Samuel Barber's "Adagio for Strings" or Vivaldi's summer violin concerto. I suppose there are certain cliches that have emerged in Western music as it's gradually become codified into a system of keys and chords and standard arrangements that we've collectively come to view as "ugly" and "beautiful." The way we listen to music is defined by our cultural surroundings, and our surroundings tell us that minor keys are sad and major keys are happy (generally speaking).

On the other end of the spectrum, there's a different kind of beauty to found in less strictly composed, more free-flowing music. You can hear it in Shuggie Otis' "Freedom Flight" or the first track on Boredoms' Vision Creation Newsun. There's a certain point where some improvised music suddenly ceases to be subject to pretense-- it's just there and you take it for what it is. On a personal level, I think this is why I find listening to Japanese koto music and Javanese gamelan orchestras to be somewhat liberating. Somewhere in all that sound, you can catch a rather vivid glimpse of the soul of the person or people playing it.

Naturally, I enjoy both music that's intricately composed and music that's totally free of any compositional guidance. A Feather in the Engine, David Kilgour's fourth solo album (excluding his mid-90s compilation of demos, First Steps and False Alarms), plays something like a meeting point between the two ends of the spectrum. On the one hand, you have several smartly written psychedelic pop songs, ensconced in the traditions of Kiwi rock that Kilgour's own band, the Clean, helped establish. On the other, you have a handful of simply gorgeous off-the-cuff guitar instrumentals that transcend any other little subgenre distinctions you could apply to Kilgour's music.

The album opens with one of these instrumentals, a meandering, meditative track called "Sept. '98" that makes me want to get out a good throw rug, find a mantra and have a good moment of escape from my oft-overbearing superego. Kilgour's guitar lines seem to flow with his stream of consciousness, and the several overdubbed parts combine for a shimmer effect. An unassuming organ interjects now and then with quasi-melodic phrases that provide a good contrast to the simple themes Kilgour works out on his guitar. One urgently strummed passage even recalls Jorma Kaukonen's "Embryonic Journey" from Jefferson Airplane's Surrealistic Pillow.

The album moves from there to the quirky pastoral psych-pop of "Slippery Slide," full of tumbling piano flourishes, percussive, plucked bass, and relaxed acoustic strumming. Kilgour's singing isn't exactly what you'd call world-class, but his subdued tenor works just about perfectly for this kind of thing. "All the Rest" follows with a more focused pop hook and a strong backbeat. Kilgour doesn't pay much mind to traditional pop song structure in his writing, though, and this songs is no exception, as he lays into his wah pedal for an extended midsection that provides the record with one of its Clean-est moments.

Several other songs follow fairly well-paved paths, such as the fine acoustic "The Perfect Watch" or "Wooden Shed," but the three best songs come consecutively near the end. "Today Is Gonna Be Mine" is an exultant blast of prime Flying Nun brand pop-- ramshackle, yet somehow also propulsive. "I Caught You" opens with a "Venus in Furs" drone, some repetitive piano motives and a detached Kilgour singing, "I've got you inside my head," before cutting into a slippery bass groove courtesy of frequent Kilgour collaborator Noel Ward over thumping drums.

"Instra 2 Reprise" follows, and though its title may make it sound like a tossed-off interlude, it's anything but. Kilgour delivers one of his best vocal performances over subtle percussion, wah-drenched guitar and a string arrangement by Graeme Downes of the Verlaines. The string quartet is masterfully scored to provide counterpoint to Kilgour's vocals during verses and melodic material between the verses. Brief, eastern-sounding descending lines alternate with Copeland-esque crescendos with a swooping violin lead. It's truly fantastic stuff that succeeds brilliantly without really conforming to any traditional sense of structure.

Of course, there are also more of those splendid little instrumentals to be found, like "Instra 2," an acoustic 12 string guitar and tack piano interlude obviously influenced by the music of South Asia. Kilgour rattles off sitar-like runs with ease and keeps the harmony ambiguous. The album closes with "Backwards Forwards," which centers all of its varied wandering around a few central chords, relying on a simple cadence to bring everything full circle at regular intervals. A distant drum machine provides a pace for the proceedings, which find Kilgour alternately exploring textured strumming and slow, surf-styled leads dripping in reverb.

A Feather in the Wind is actually a bit too brief at 38 minutes, and you'll barely feel the passage of time while listening to it. Complaints are hard to come by, as there's really not a single unpleasant moment on the entire album. That said, though thoroughly enjoyable, the album isn't always riveting, either, and occasionally the attention does stray. But that's hardly a reason not to throw it on when you need to chill out after a long day now is it? Kilgour has managed to craft an album that unleashes a hefty dose of beauty on the world, and that's something we can always use.

-Joe Tangari, March 14th, 2002