Because Lamp of the Universe has never stopped growing over the last 23 years since the project’s first release, it’s easy to listen to 2002’s second album, Echo in Light, as a more primitive version of what the solo-project of multi-instrumentalist, vocalist and producer Craig Williamson (now also Dead Shrine, ex-Arc of Ascent, ex-Datura) has become over time. But, hearing the second Lamp of the Universe full-length unfold over an otherworldly 54 minutes, Williamson was already building on what the one-man-band’s debut, 2001’s The Cosmic Union (reissue review here, discussed here), laid out in terms of scope with its Eastern inner-universe-exploration aesthetic and depth of arrangement, and it’s kind of astonishing in hindsight how much there is happening in songs like “Freedom to Godliness,” which opens with its nuance of sitar and nylon-string acoustic, tabla-style hand percussion, and Williamson‘s sweetly floating melodic vocals, and the sense of adventure brought to the aptly-named “Resonance,” which adds synthesizer drones to the procession; a tantric, cosmic vision of psychedelic folk for which I’ve now spent more than two decades trying to find an analog and failing outright.

To put it another way, there’s plenty of psych-folk out there. No shortage. I’ve never heard anyone else do psych-folk, coming from a background in heavy rock, with a specific bent toward Subcontinental influences but yeah definitely also space, while sounding (A:) not at all like a put-on and (B:) both exploratory and memorable. The repetition of “Resonance” as it moves into its last stretch, organ coming back over sitar and guitar after the vocals have dropped to silence, for example. That’s a march. And in an outwardly-heavier Williamson incarnation like Dead Shrine (also a solo-project), it might hit harder, but Lamp of the Universe‘s gentle, music-as-a-kindness approach doesn’t lose the feeling of worship or ritual or celebration. It is singularly gorgeous and, to my experience, a unique sound built from familiar elements. It occupies its own space in terms of aesthetic and again, I’ve had an ear out for something that might fit a decent “more like this” recommendation for over 20 years to no avail whatsoever. If you’ve got one, I’d love to hear it and be like, “yeah, okay, but not quite,” which is how it usually goes.

Included on Echo in Light are two longer-form mostly-instrumentals, “Our Celestial Flow” (10:38) and the album-closer “Dream Sequence” (16:59), the latter of which uses distant, echoing voice as part of its ambient affect. Both emphasize experimentalism. “Our Celestial Flow” lays out a backing thread of organ and low-mixed rock drums behind mellow strums of wah guitar, as if to remind via the subtlest of funk that the first album was in decent portion about screwing, and unfolds as a graceful self-jam. By the time Williamson is four minutes in, he sounds like a room full of players dug into feeling their way through the proceedings, prescient of mellow-psych as a style and as hypnotic in reality as it seems to be in intent. Lead guitar weaves through most of it, but after the eight-minute mark, there are vocals over the drum fills for a moment, wavering and disappearing again as though to make the long-since-entranced listener question whether or not the actually happened until they’re confirmed by the intertwining voices at the finish. “Our Celestial Flow” is not mistitled.

And neither is “Dream Sequence,” for that matter, with its drifting collage of sound, departing from the love-as-spiritual-act ethic through which much of Echo in Light operates in pieces like the penultimate “Pyramids of Sun,” “Freedom to Godliness” or the flute-laced “Love,” which follows “Our Celestial Flow” by redirecting the mantra rather than breaking it. Cohesive and expressive in its purposes, Lamp of the Universe is of course patient in the execution, but even as it approaches 17 minutes long, “Dream Sequence” doesn’t lose sight of its goal in manifesting a psychedelic impressionism while maintaining the ambience and mood of the album that precedes it, and it even answers some of the wah and soloing of “Our Celestial Flow” as the suitably hallucinatory course unwinds, though the context is more serene in the closer with synth sounding like manipulated birdsong (maybe also being it) and washes of cymbals and chimes filling out the reaches of the mix.

In light of Williamson‘s collaboration earlier this year with Scott “Dr. Space” Heller for the hopefully-not-a-one-off Lamp of the Universe Meets Dr. Space LP, Enters Your Somas (review here), “Dream Sequence” feels particularly prescient of Lamp of the Universe‘s experimentalism in a way that defines a lot of Echo in Light as compares to The Cosmic Union, but even as it expands the parameters, the sophomore outing reaffirms the stylistic lean of the first. In doing so, however, Echo in Light works vividly to set up and set forth a progression in songwriting that Williamson is still following today. Lamp of the Universe‘s last couple standalone albums — let’s say 2023’s Kaleidoscope Mind (review here) and 2022’s The Akashic Field (review here) — have leaned more into a rock-based sound, and that shift feels organic in light of Williamson‘s three ’10s-era albums with Arc of Ascent, which was a full band, and the fact that between those two Lamp records, Dead Shrine made its own full-length debut with The Eightfold Path (review here). It’s not always easy listening from one end to the other as releases vary in their degrees of drone, heft, groove and melody, but there’s an awful lot you can hear informed by the work being done across Echo in Light, and a revisit finds it not only a worthy successor to a first LP that I consider a landmark, whatever anyone else thinks of it, but a preface to continued sonic evolution.

It won’t be long before Williamson is heard from again. Dead Shrine already has a single up from an impending second record, and again, Lamp of the Universe does have a release out this year (the aforementioned Dr. Space collab), so it’s not like there isn’t current work to dig into. And I hear a Datura reissue might be in the works as well. If you want to believe rumors you read on the internet, that is.

As always, I hope you enjoy, and thanks for reading.

—

Taking yesterday off for Thanksgiving was the right idea. I spent most of the day back and forth doing hosting stuff. We had 16 people, which is about the usual complement of family and close friends. It was The Patient Mrs.’ show. She baked for days, ran point on turkeys (we had two 18-pound birds; investment in future leftovers) and the timing of everything. It all went well. Nobody left mad, and everybody left full. The Pecan mostly played on the Switch all day, but at least she was around if not at the table with us. We’ll get there. She’s seven.

Today’s Black Friday, which is sad because no one has any money, everything costs a ton and the idea that people are actually saving on sales rings hollow to me. I worked retail. A month before Black Friday, the prices go up. Black Friday doorbusters! Get ’em before the tariffs kick in as if the cost of any such thing would ever be passed anywhere but the consumer. I guess capitalism just makes me sad now. Needless to say I’ve been letting a lot of the big-merch-sale Bandcamp updates that’ve come in this week go unread. Artists shouldn’t be scraping for bucks. Just imagine a better world. For two seconds. It won’t take you long to get there.

But yeah, I don’t think we’re hitting up the strip mall today. The Patient Mrs. mom has been around the last couple days, and helped out yesterday a lot, which was doubly impressive because she had her knee replaced like a week and a half ago. Gravy would be made, dammit. I’m not that tough. On Tuesday, I drove to Providence, Rhode Island — yes, I made a stop at Armageddon Shop; bought a Blind Guardian CD; they were playing Candlemass when I walked it and it felt welcoming — to pick up two turkeys from the farm we used to get our chicken from when we lived in Massachusetts, and picked up The Patient Mrs.’ mom on my way back south in Connecticut before proceeding to sit in some of the worst traffic of my life. I-95, man. Too many people, not enough road. It took four hours to get from CT to NJ. I’ve done it in less than two.

Living to tell the tale from that doesn’t feel like nothing. Tomorrow we’ll take her back north — she can make gravy, but handling a car would be a big ask — and I assume hang out for a bit in Connecticut, then Sunday we’re having a playdate/brunch for The Pecan because, well, I already vacuumed and when your kid plays with another kid now you hang out with the parents, apparently. When I was a kid that wasn’t the case, I don’t think. But whatever. It’ll be fine.

Whatever you’re up to, I hope you have a great and safe weekend. On the Thanksgiving theme, I am incredibly grateful for the continued support this site gets in its weird, quirky kind of mission to Share Music And Write About Stuff™, and if you’ve never heard Lamp of the Universe before and are listening to Echo in Light now for the first time, golly I hope you dig it.

Thanks again for reading. Back Monday.

FRM.

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