I was a terrible guitar student. My teacher was nice enough, an older
guy (to 16-year-old me, anyway) with some pretty good chops, probably played in
a bunch of bar-stuck blues bands. Friend of the family, kinda. He probably had
no interest, really, in teaching me. Every week, he probably thought the same
thing when he saw our minivan pull up: “What Pearl Jam song does this little
shit want me to teach him this week?” I’m not proud of that part of my musical
education. I learned bar chords at least.
Terre Roche is also a guitar teacher, and I wonder if she’d have
infinite patience with me. Not that I need guitar lessons anymore – what am I,
16? – but I wonder nonetheless. I wonder truthfully how much of me other people
can handle at one time. I mean, I’m not a handful or anything, and I’m pretty
nice, but I’d probably still be an insufferable music student. As an
insufferable music critic, I have to say that Terre Roche’s style is safe and inviting,
and this is someone who has played with Robert Fripp, of all people. She stays
in her folk/blues wheelhouse, hanging out there with bassist and producer Jay
Anderson, folking it up, bluesing it up, folk/bluesing it up, folk/folking it
up, whatever, man. I guarantee that if Imprint
was on a major label rather than OSR Tapes (and no disrespect meant to OSR
Tapes whatsoever here, those
unrelentingly optimistic curators), it would get pretty good placement at the
Starbucks cash register, maybe even heavy rotation on the PA. Impulse buy,
baby. Perfect for drinking lattes to.
--Ryan Masteller
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