Donovan

Sutra (American Recordings)

he’s mellower than ever. Still following the Buddhist maxims that rescued him from the headier excesses of the ’60s. But ‘preaching’ is too strong a word for the stories he peddles. Donovan Leitch would never be so bold as to attempt to dictate; instead he muses, reflects and betimes, proffers his take on matters spiritual.

This is music to chant to. Music to stretch and bend the body as well as the mind. Dominated by such esoteric sounds as harmonium and tabla, embellished with judicious samples of cello and bass (the latter courtesy of Danny Thompson, Richard Thompson’s regular partner in crime), Sutra is exactly what its name suggests: a collection of aphorisms to tweak at the mind set – just a tad.

Best taken as a concept album, with the ambient vibe which that suggests, Sutra should be played with the amp and the lights turned low – all the better to hear and see it, m’dear. And it’ll probably find its most receptive audience in anyone who smoked those pipes and soaked up those vibes of peace, love and understanding way back then.

Truth be told, Sutra is unlikely to seduce anyone of an age which precludes their recalling the pivotal imagery of Donovan’s own heyday. Which basically means that if you need to ask ‘John Who?’, you probably won’t dig this scene, man.

Then again, there’s a captivating arrangement of Edgar Allen Poe’s ‘Eldorado’, bolstered by one Dr. Nigel Kennedy, but whether or not the cool clean hero of the fiddle is enough to draw in a less wrinkled listenership, is doubtful.

Sutra is soothing music befitting balmy evenings. For a man who produced sublime music some three decades ago, as well as siring the best-looking CK models, he’s not doing so badly. This is the art of easeful abandon elevated to suitably ethereal heights.

Siobhán Long