Origin Myths by Bobby Lee

“Men come and go, cities rise and fall, whole civilizations appear and disappear-the earth remains, slightly modified. Heartbreaking beauty where there are no hearts to break....I sometimes choose to think, no doubt perversely, that man is a dream, thought an illusion, and only rock is real. Rock and sun.” Edward Abbey

Open sky/scorched earth improvisations recorded to four track tape during the rare moments of solitude afforded by lockdown and early fatherhood. Bobby Lee’s “worn-denim psych-country” remains, but the ancestral spirits of Ashra, Popol Vuh and Terry Riley are present here too. Time and technological limitations have been embraced. A song dreamt up, tracked and mixed in an afternoon, never to be tampered with again. Imperfections allowed to stand; knowing that nothing is ever truly finished. The Bob Ross school of philosophy.

Recorded May-November 2020.

“... a mystical big sky desert dream....” The Wire Magazine

**** Mojo Magazine

“Open sky instrumental wonders” 8/10 Uncut Magazine

“ Lovers of swampy gnarly folk guitars will love Origin Myths” The Guardian

“standing at that interstellar crossroads between Americana, American primitive, psychedelic and shoegaze” Petal Motel

“Soundscape meets landscapes ... like clouds wafting across an endless sky and play like a series of unintentional field recordings made on a dusty summer day.” Bandcamp Daily

“Deep-fried galactic grandeur” Folk Radio UK

“Joining SUSS, Bobby Walker Jr, and North Americans, Lee helps to round out a new wave of top line ambient country.” Raven Sings The Blues

“dime store desert twang” New Commute

“If Harvey Mandel’s Christo Redentor and Jerry Garcia’s first solo LP get just as much use on your turntable as your Popol Vuh and North Americans records, then you unquestionably need Origin Myths in your life.” Record Crates United

BBC6 Music’s Huey Morgan’s Album of the Week.

Support form BBC Radio 3’s Late Junction, No Depression, Gideon Coe, WFMU, Huw Stephens, Aquarium Drunkard, Night Folk, NTS.

Bobby Lee trades in a wide screen brand of cosmic country-folk, full of space and pawn shop guitars. There are touches of JJ Cale's analogue Americana, the swampy groove of Tony Joe White and Richard Thompson's sinewy, modal guitar work. Amps hum in the warm afternoon sun, kids and dogs snooze on the grass and broken drum machines keep time with the universe…