There are few paths, musically speaking, that Byorn Gold hasn’t already travelled, few sounds and styles that he hasn’t explored. The nature of this latest series of EPs, comprising three releases that are constituent parts of the next album, inspired by films, is the perfect vehicle to explore those few corners of the musical map that remain musically uncharted.
And, this third instalment, as the title suggests, finding its source material in the stories and music of the Middle Ages, sees him adding some fascinating sounds and songs to his already eclectic and exploratory back catalogue.
“Warrior” is a portrait of Richard Lionheart, here found lying on his deathbed as he reflects upon his own life. It kicks things off in majestic style, with a big fanfare and sweeping strings, before the song settles into the lilting, courtly style of the medieval troubadour. But this isn’t merely a Renaissance rip-off. Instead, this is the sound of those times being captured in a modern filmic way, part authentic sound, part cinematic grandeur, the medieval and the modern dancing in perfect harmony.
“The Monk,” inspired by the iconic “The Name of the Rose” by Umberto Eco, underlines this point perfectly with a prelude that’s the stuff of film score grandeur, while the main body of the song features a thoroughly modern sound. Yet, as it charts the journey of a young boy (Adso of Melk) who embraces the monastic life, balancing the human and the holy, the profound with the impure, it still echoes with the weight of music past.
“U and Me Tonight” – about two actors playing Shakespear’s “Romeo and Juliet” and becoming so engrossed in it that they almost live and die with their characters – is a sophisticated piece of pop, woven through with mystery and longing built on slick and soulful guitar licks and washes of synth, beguiling beats, and vocals that tell a timeless tale of togetherness.
This final filmic instalment concludes with the neo-classical elegance of “Story Maker”, a tribute to the art of storytelling, serving as the perfect footnote to a run of songs inspired by films, as storytelling is fundamental to who we are as a species. And while tales told on screens and via headphones might have taken over from campfire stories and travelling troubadours using songs to spread news and ideas, the love of storytelling hasn’t changed. And, in the song’s crescendo, a suitable reference is made to perhaps an ultimate story, namely Dante’s “Inferno”, indeed a potent note to end the album on.
This ep, like those two before it, reminds us of the power of stories. Far from being mere myths or bedtime tales for children, they are tantamount to who we are. Books allow us to put on the shoes of other people, songs give us fresh perspectives, and films enable us to access worlds beyond our imagination. And if that is so, then Stories From the Middle Ages is nothing less than time travel!