John Fahey - The Voice of the Turtle

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I don't know the complete story behind this record in reference to it being a hoax or a put-on or who played what. What I do know is that it's my favorite John Fahey record, and if that makes me less enlightened than the average Fahey fan, I can live with that.

I don't think it's important that this record spends less time spotlighting Fahey's guitar virtuosity than is normally the case. This is a record that's about a certain ambience created by collage, and the fact that Fahey uses unknown accompanists and found sounds makes it no less authentic or personal than his other guitar-only recordings that the Byronic Fahey enthusiasts long for. What's essentially important about the record is that Fahey was responsible for it, assembled it, and that it was born out of his head, if not always his hand. That's why it's valid.

As much of a purist as Fahey could be - perhaps wishing that he were around 40 years earlier to learn first-hand from his influences - he wasn't an irrational purist. By that I mean he wasn't afraid to like or use technology. He didn't use technology as paint, so to speak, but rather as his brush, and 'Voice of the Turtle' was his most complete technological statement. It was extremely rare that Fahey used an electronic sound in his music, yet the way he assembled certain songs - and the the entire 'Voice of the Turtle' album - was influenced by modern technology in the form of found sounds and the occasional electronic drone or squak. The third and fourth 'A Raga Called Pat's on 'Voice of the Turtle', as well as the first two on 'Days Have Gone By' are not adventurous because they abandon his roots, they're adventurous because they express his roots and vision differently. Instead of simulating an environment, an era, or a mood on guitar, Fahey gives them to you - straight-up - and then does his musical thing, whether it be guitar or something else, on top of it, making those pieces into virtual field recordings, and what's more 'Fahey' than a field recording? That's right - nothing. His roots and vision did not change on those pieces.

By saying that 'Voice of the Turtle' was Fahey's most complete technological statement, I don't imply that he necessarily used more technology than on any other record. It has to do with the coherence of the technology and how it brings the record together rather than isolating certain songs as in the case of 'Days Have Gone By' and 'Requia'. The way the 'A Raga Called Pat's, 'The Story of Dorothy Gooch, Part 1' and the drone that opens and closes the record work against the more traditional material is purposeful, not merely experimental. The above songs give the more upbeat traditional pieces an interesting subtext of menace that suggests that even in good times, trouble is never far. They also re-inforce the doom-laden crossroads mythology that Fahey liked to play with in some of his delta blues pieces.

I can understand how 'Voice of the Turtle' can be lost on some who appreciate Fahey's technique first and foremost, but what I can't understand is why Fahey's technique is first and foremost. He was one of the greatest artists of his time, avoiding retro by taking the time to understand history and then coming back again into the present to show us what he found and how it's really the same. December 14, 2003

Impossible to describe, but I will try anyway

This album wasn't the first I heard by John Fahey, but it was the first music that I listened to SERIOUSLY. At the time, I had no choice--it was the only record I had. Fahey did a number of remarkable things in his early career, but with this album he created a world that is more like a theatrical illusion--as opposed an artist simply performing on a guitar. Its a collosal prank, to be sure, but, the joke isn't immediately apparent. When I first heard it, 34 years ago, I absolutely did not know how to interpret or comprehend it--it just broke down all of my cognitive categories. It was truly liberating. The thing resonates on so many different subtle levels. At that point in my life, I lived in a little shack in the canyons of northern CA, had a little old record player, and about 3 records that belonged to a girlfriend, one of which was The Voice of the Turtle. I listened to it over and over, became obsessed with it, studied every detail of the album liner notes. Tacoma Park, MD, Fahey's boyhood home, is frequently referenced in his song titles. Back in the 40's and 50's when Fahey was a kid, steam engines hauled freight and passenger trains every few minutes through the heart of Tacoma Park, spewing white steam and black smoke. They kept it up into the 60's by which time Fahey had transmigrated to Berkeley, CA. Tacoma Park had a real rural character back then, and many of Fahey's songs mythologize familiar places along the right of way through that neighborhood. For example, Fahey has a song on one of his albums titled, "The View East from the Riggs Road B&O Railway Trestle". I spent many days rolling by that location when I worked for the B&O--made a tape recording of the song and went there to listen to it--looking East, of course. Even though Voice of the Turtle was the recording that piped me into the Magic Mountain, it is not necessarily my favorite of Fahey's recordings. That would have to be Volume 6, although I love everything he ever released. Either this music speaks to you, or it doesn't. If you like the convergence of chanting monks and temple bells with locomotive whistles and thunderstorms swirled with archaic, primitive, blues guitar, that could serve as the soundtrack for Steamboat Willy, then do yourself a favor and tune in. November 25, 2003

a little style and humor goes a long way

John Fahey was truely a marvel, rediscovering, performing and recording traditional country blues with a precision and dedication unmatched by any other artist. So it might seem a little heretical to suggest that after any number of volumes of this work that there was a sense of extreme focus, or even a clinical approach. This album goes along way in rebuking that notion, showing the artist's wickedly droll sense of humor, along with a welcome experiment with some decidedly psychedelic tinge, indulging in the powerful counterculture zeitgeist.
It is this unexpected quirkiness that adds real personality and affection to the steady underlying brilliance. This is a very interesting project, and highly recommended to those who would prefer their Fahey clothed with a little offbeat style. November 2, 2003

Outrageous

"That whole record was a hoax. On all the songs that say it's me it isn't and vice versa." - John Fahey A lavish autobiographical fantasy, an absurd exercise in self-gratification, or self-deprecation, hard to tell; a labour of love for sure, a financial disaster, definitely, a grand folly, a lovely indulgence, a holiday from seriousness, a mosaic of diverse musical traditions and a discographical nightmare; "The Voice of the Turtle" is all these things. The most rococo expression of Fahey's sense of the absurd, with its lying notes, self-mythologising and lunatic picture book, this is a serious joke. With those notes, and that picture album so lovingly subtitled, the sleeve in all its gatefolded glory - "the author age 17" , the quote from the Bible which everyone including Fahey knows means turtledoves, not turtles, this record comes at you like a conceptual piece, a bold encryption of a dream of a possibility. Fahey, I award you the Turner Prize for 1968. July 4, 2000

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