Railroad

There are times when I worry I’m getting sick of the acoustic guitar. Listening to it, playing it, thinking about it. It’s at these times when I put on John Fahey, any album of his, and remember the potential this instrument has to go from plinking totem of sincerity to growling beast. Or both! Why not? Railroad, an early entry in Fahey’s fascinating 80s period, is, like its namesake, propulsive in its execution. Each track gives the effect of sticking your head out the window of a moving vehicle, feeling the wind and watching everything around you whizz by at speeds you weren’t sure were possible. Like Fahey’s later work there are twinges of darkness and avant-garde playing to be found, but what would a roadtrip be without bumps in the road?