“Peloponnesian Grove” is the newest album from Chicago new-age multi-instrumentalist, producer, singer-songwriter and poet C.W. Franz. Recently, I covered his “C.W. Franz II” project, which I praised for its sprawling, cinematic, MASTERFULLY arranged and deeply personal portrait of the American Midwest. As with his other releases on Bandcamp, C.W. gives a basic description of what his latest instrumental album has to offer: “A reflective journey through my years at George Washington University in Washington D.C. Conceived as an outlet to get my more danceable cuts out there, Peloponnesian Grove has evolved into a force of its own”
I imagine many university graduates – and dropouts, I guess – find themselves reflecting on their formative years of tertiary education at some point in time in their lives. Roughly 10 years ago, I spent an academic term as a foreign exchange student at Trinity College in Hartford, Connecticut. Though I spent four months in the U.S., I absorbed so much from my time and experiences at that college, and I’ve never been the same since then.
Similar to “C.W. Franz II”, “Peloponnesian Grove” doesn’t require deep analysis into every note, instrument, melody or arrangement in order to understand the man and the messages behind the music. At surface level, you can treat this 7-track album as one of those self-explanatory ‘beats to relax/study to’ YouTube channels or videos you’ve probably checked out at least ONCE in your life. But if you go into this project knowing that it’s based on C.W.’s university years (and as a side note, the title is a reference to the orange groves of the Peloponnesian Island in Greece, where his grandmother resides and which he visited in 2014), you may find yourself projecting some of your own college and university experiences onto it.
A groove or tone may conjure thoughts and feelings you had back then, or still do, thus making the album resonate with you on a more personal level. In other words, what C.W. gave us with “Peloponnesian Grove” is a thematically ambiguous, yet incredibly relatable and heartfelt look back at his alma mater and the larger world around it.
The opening track “Windows (Looking Out)” begins with a hypnotic and quite catchy combination of cowbell, djembe and cabasa melodies over some Fender Rhodes piano keys. The piano itself perfectly matches the rhythms of the aforementioned instruments whilst maintaining a sense of tension which, surprisingly, DOESN’T build over the song’s 10-minute runtime. Around the middle, the track slowly evolves into a crescendo of airy synths hovering over the opening melodies, creating the feel of a grand, cinematic wide shot of the George Washington University and its environs. We also get a FANTASTIC baritone and electric guitar solo near the end, which wind up being two of the song’s major highlights. Interestingly, two speech snippets, both placed at the middle of the mix, show up on “Windows” – and I couldn’t help but view them as both a thematic reminder of the political foundation of the University and D.C. as a whole and a hint at the social and educational climate that probably impacted C.W.’s stay in general.
“A Moment’s Answers”, one of my favourite songs on the album, treats us to a bouncy, party-oriented, MASCHINE + crafted beat laced with a slow, wavy Roland Juno-60 passage. The intentional mixing of the Roland Juno-60 over the MASCHINE beat, and in particular the superimposition of a moodier version of the Roland passage over the existing one, creates this euphoric, off-kilter vibe throughout the song. The acoustic guitar which comes in after the first half adds some much-needed serenity to the already odd and spacey combination of vibrant and low-spirited sounds. Thematically, the track sounds like the encapsulation of campus life’s highs and lows, joys and sorrows, victories and failures – and the emotional overwhelm we experience as a result. Bookending the track is another vocal snippet, this time from what sounds like a despondent student or athlete going through an overwhelming situation of his own concerning his basketball skills.
On the subject of Connecticut, the following track “I Remember Weatogue” is a calm, laid-back, instrumental ode to the Hartford County village of the same name. Its relaxed snare drum, escalating Roland synth passage, gorgeous viola and string arrangement and soft acoustic guitar strings congregate into a half-hopeful, half-melancholy but altogether pleasant and beautiful composition. C.W. returns to D.C. on “Mount Vernon”, a track which utilizes bluesy pedal steel guitar, drums and an unexpected French horn near the end to deliver a downbeat and admittedly depressing counterpoint to the dreamlike vibe of the previous song.
“Monument” finds C.W. applying a pulsating, almost military-like wadaiko / bass koto combo melody (reminiscent of his experimentation with Asian instruments on his previous albums) over some increasingly spacey synths. Admittedly, this is my TOP FAVOURITE track on the album, and I imagine it’ll be the same for many listeners thanks to that ear-grabbing melody which, shockingly, doesn’t run out of steam before the song’s conclusion with a ring of a Tibetan prayer bell. The blend of hypnotic Roland TR-606 drums, ethereal electric guitar solo and majestic horns (the latter of which appears at just the right moment on the song) on the penultimate track “Lights over the Potomac” create a picturesque mental image of the sun setting over the Potomac River, and the subsequent reflections of street lights over the water itself.
And then we have the album closer “Better Days Ahead”, which is easily the most cryptic track on “Peloponnesian Grove” – not in terms of sound, but in meaning. Sonically, it’s the moodiest and most nocturnal-sounding song in the tracklist, with its cascading udu rhythm, gloomy Roland Juno-60 synths and haunting acoustic guitar solo. Like “Windows (Looking Out)”, we hear two vocal snippets, but this time, much clearer. The first is a rendition of the iconic, cryptic and legendarily short William Carlos Williams poem “The Red Wheelbarrow”, which admittedly, I was completely unaware of until I saw it referenced a few times in one of my all-time favourite TV shows, “Mr. Robot”. The latter is the second half of a rendition of the Carl Sandburg poem “Chicago”, which starts with the following: “Come and show me another city with lifted head singing so proud to be alive and coarse and strong and cunning”
With C.W’s poetry background, we can easily assume both poems must have resonated with him and helped shape the way he viewed his experiences in Washington D.C. in relation to that of Chicago. And yet the song title hints at something unfulfilled, unrealized and perhaps unattainable. Or maybe it hints at something already experienced, like his university years, which have been and never will be again, except in memory. We never really know, and the album brilliantly keeps it that way.
As a whole, I found myself enjoying and appreciating “Peloponnesian Grove” way more than I expected. While not as expansive and wide in scope as “C.W. Franz II”, the album’s sonic consistency and slightly narrow focus into an experience many of us can relate to made for some of the most emotionally resonant musical moments I’ve felt so far this year! And it’s easily the most accessible project I’ve heard from C.W. thus far, so first-time listeners needn’t worry about getting lost or overwhelmed in his expertly composed and arranged soundscapes. It’s a downtempo affair, so don’t expect this album to bring back memories of the wildest on-campus party you’ve ever attended (and believe me, you WON’T be getting that with “A Moment’s Answers”). But if you’re looking for some emotional potency, reflection and reminiscence to go with your selection of beats to relax, study and/or simply vibe to, then by all means, give “Peloponnesian Grove” a listen!
OVERALL RATING: 8.5 out of 10
Now available on Bandcamp