Everyone has a story that will always go untold
Work that's been left unfinished, leaving nothing to behold
I just want to live to feel that moment of grace
When in spite of everything I'm returned to the human place
This is one simple message of Brooklyn-based singer-songwriter Timothy Hill. Staying connected with oneself through the ups and downs of love and loss. "There's a strong theme of trying to stay in touch with my humanity in an urban setting," says Hill. "I'm looking out my window at the BQE, there's a lot of traffic. I hear that highway all the time. My songs have a lot to do with our experience of time, the feeling of loss-- whether it's of faith or innocence-- how you reconcile that, and remain feeling human."
Hill recorded his third and newest release, Spirit's Body, in just two days, accompanied by guitarists Chris Cunningham and Jason Crigler. Organic sounding with almost no editing or overdubbing, it was recorded at Dreamland Studio in West Hurley, NY, a 100-year old wooden church. "I had this sound in my head from my childhood in Portland, Oregon" he explains, "living in old Victorian wood frame houses. There were music parties with lots of guitars, and that sound stuck with me. On Spirit's Body we were playing into the sound of the church. It's a very sympathetic setting for my singing."
A comparison to James Taylor or Jackson Browne wouldn't be too far off the mark. But there's much more to Hill's voice upon closer inspection. He has one skill under his belt that most singers never explore-- the art of overtone singing, for which he is probably best known.
Growing up as the son of actors, Hill gravitated to music after
listening to records that were given to his parents by their friend
Patty Clancy of the Clancy Brothers: the traditional folk wave of the
early 1960s. He started writing songs on guitar at the age of 11. But
as early as age 14, he felt the limitations of pop song structure and
became interested in modern jazz and the music of other cultures. As a
teenager, he played in groups performing everything from folk to rock
to jazz to abstract sound. He formed a group called The Glass
Orchestra, in which drinking glasses were filled with water to produce
strange banquets of ethereal music
by candlelight, and was invited to
perform in a work by John Cage, conducted by the composer.
At age 18, Hill met overtone pioneer David Hykes and joined Hykes' group, The Harmonic Choir, in New York, performing his first concert with them in 1977. By 1983, the choir had released their first album, Hearing Solar Winds, making top ten lists and getting recognition from Newsweek, The Village Voice and The New York Times (which singled out Hill as a virtuoso). "That was a very vivid experience for me," relates Hill. "Going into the fundamentals of sound, to its very roots. It's the foundation of music theory, it's pre-language. Overtone singing isn't just a voice sounding like an instrument. It's the voice becoming the whole tone, embodying the sound, feeling the physical turbulence."
Ultimately, his quest lead him to the music of India, his father's birthplace. "When I was eight, my father brought home a Ravi Shankar record, so I grew up with that sound," says Hill. "I was ripe for Indian music." In New York, Hill met master Indian Classical singer Sheila Dhar and began studying with her, allowing the music to seep in to a deep level. "In Indian Classical music the emphasis is not so much on the sound of the singing voice or even the technique, but rather on what the singer is expressing".
By the early '90s Hill felt he needed to "create a sturdy framework to bring all these explorations to fruition." His inspiration came after seeing Jeff Buckley at NYC's Cafe Sin-e. "He was singing and playing solo electric guitar, very eclectic stuff. I thought that's what I need to do. Use all the experiences I've had-- the immediacy of folk music, the harmonic sophistication and improvisational freedom of jazz, and the overtone singing, which is otherworldly and deeply human at the same time."
Returning to his folk troubadour roots, he began playing Sin-e and the downtown folk scene in 1996. He recorded his first CD, This Bright World, in 1997. Its instrumentation is a jazz trio with guitar, bass and drums, which he describes as having a vibe like "Neil Young if he recorded for Blue Note Records in the 1950s". Here Hill begins his telling of the human experience, as in "Center of the Storm":
The ground's shifting beneath us, the clouds shift high above
And every flash of lightning makes it clearer what we're made of
Everybody needs a place where they feel safe and warm
Sometimes the calmest place to be is in the center of the storm
Dropping into a rich milieu of performers, he crossed paths with Susan McKeown, Rebecca Martin, Frank Tedesso and Katell Keineg (he performed on her 1997 release, Jet). Hill's second CD, The Human Place, was released in 2000; it carries a similar rhythm section and jazz elements, but presents a much fuller sound, bringing in Larry John McNally on dobro and sitargitar, Michelle Kinney on cello, and Steve Gorn on saxophone. On "Why I Need The Mercy", Hill sings:
And that is why I need the mercy of you letting down your guard
so I can know the one within you that hasn't yet learned to be hard
and that is why I need to try to show you everything I feel
'cause it's the tenderness inside us that is real
On Spirit's Body, the overtone singing makes more of an appearance. "It's a bit like the way Dylan uses his harmonica to open up another window in the music when he's said all he can with words. My main focus, though, is on the songs. I want people to hear what I'm saying."
Hill has found a musical community which he calls home. "Some of my peers are people I respect as much as my biggest musical heroes. We live in a society where music is ubiquitous. You can't go anywhere without hearing it, yet the people who make it aren't really valued. It's a question of breaking through the construct of the music industry to reach the people who really need to hear you."
Today, Hill teaches overtone singing and is bringing more Indian and jazz elements to his music. But, he says, "What exact form the music takes is not as important as keeping a kernel of aliveness and spontaneity, being as true in the moment as I can be."