Maybe we should expect nothing less from a man whose Twitter bio reads “Per aspera ad astra” (“through hardships to the stars") but this interplay between the imminent and the transcendent; that in-between space where life occurs provides the perfect canvas for Barnes’ clever and often insightful words. But the music is just as vital as the words. They weave in and out of one another; melodies softly soar and swirl, uplifting the soul even while the words might keep us grounded. Exploring that “in-between” space, “Ex Voto” is a record that doesn’t shy away from the hurt of life, but it is also not a record which leaves us in the mire.
Though Barnes acknowledges and explores despair and hurt and the dark realities of life, love, and loss, there is never a sense of despair or defeat. In fact, it is quite the opposite. Consider these lines from album opener “Pennyrile”
“And its shadow found me
There beneath it all
And with lifted hands to high we gasped and wondered at the writing on the sky
What a thing it even is to be alive”
Despite it all, “what a thing it even is to be alive!” Even though “crooks and carnivores are closing,” “Ex Voto” finds Barnes “holding fast, holding fast” (“Hollow Dusk”). The mountains may be crashing in to the sea, but Barnes is struggling to be still and make sense of it all; all without giving up the still small light of hope in the darkness. It’s that quiet sense of hope that seems to not only keep Barnes afloat but able to still try and make sense of it all. In “Christ of the Ozarks,” he sings:
“Christ of the Ozarks, hold out your kind arms to me
I lost my landmarks,
I lost my family
Bring down your home
Hold me in mystery
Hold me till the end and then always”
Sometimes we just wish we could make sense of things. There are days when we need to be held and assured and that’s part of what it means to be human. “Hold me till the end and then always.” Even now in the in-between. The night may be dark, but Barnes will not let us give up searching for the meaning behind it all:
“I wish there was a liturgy for the hour soon forgotten
I wish there was a prayer for the when and they why
I wish there was a litany for the names evanescent
A benediction for the long goodbye”
I don’t know if “Ex Voto” is Barnes’ “long goodbye” to something or someone, but it’s an album that deserves our full attention. It is a timely record for a culture caught in societal grief. Hopefully it will help us make sense of suffering while not giving in to despair. We may be broken, but only “just enough” that it’s like blood-letting; for our good. We may each have a vision of what we need to be purged of, but Barnes reminds us that even if the “great cloud of witnesses dissolves overhead,” we are not alone. Wherever you find that “Silent Partner,” Barnes reminds us that there are other hands reaching out in the dark. There are other people caught in the in-between just like we are.
Barnes may not chart a clear path back to daylight and out of the suffering, but he will “hold the space” for us as we “sundown” and in that, he has reminded us of the beauty of life, and love, even when there’s loss. Winter might be coming but, we can still “harmonize our sorrows and sighs and brace for the winter gloom.”
“Hear them now, crooks and carnivores are closing
Bar the door and guard my ruby heart 'til morning
Catalog what's left and wake the weary dawn
Holding fast, holding fast.”
