Luke Gullickson & Ellen McSweeney To Evening Lands
This album is a labyrinth. At its gate is perched a lapwing who bids you follow it down the crooked pathways. You might remember this bird from its few beautiful appearances in James Joyce's Ulysses, the story of Stephen Dedalus and Leopold Bloom. It might symbolize keeping one's secrets, as a lapwing's nest is always carefully hidden.
As you trace the paths you might lose the lapwing ahead, and find yourself alone. You might think of Daedalus, the great engineer of Greek myth, who built a labyrinth for King Minos to imprison the Minotaur. The story of Daedalus' subsequent escape from Crete, on a pair of homemade wings alongside his doomed son Icarus, is well-known. But few remember how Daedalus came to Crete, as an outcast from Athens. He'd taken an apprentice, his nephew Perdix. Warped with jealousy at Perdix' superior genius, Daedalus pushed him from the top of the Acropolis. But Athena, goddess of the city, saved Perdix by turning him into a partridge in mid-air.
So Perdix flew away, that day. But partridges still make their nests low to the ground; they remember too well the terror of the fall.
"Across the sands of all the world, followed by the sun's flaming sword, to the west, trekking to evening lands." -- JJ