Published Sep 29, 2020Following years as a precious secret to a fortunate few, Beverly Glenn-Copeland has suddenly arrived. Now in his 70s, the songwriter and composer possessed of a mystical warmth is enjoying the adoration that somehow evaded him for decades. His story has come to light over the past two years, and it holds a rare balm at its core — the knowledge that sometimes the world is a fair and kind place, even if it runs a little late.
And with the release of Transmissions: The Music of Beverly Glenn-Copeland, new listeners are invited to witness the fascinating breadth of his music, to feel what's been out there all along just beyond scope. It's this collection that truly tells the story of Beverly Glenn-Copeland.
Though it's touted as a career retrospective, Transmissions isn't sequenced chronologically. This means Copeland's 70s folk compositions, like the gorgeous "Don't Despair" and "Durocher," and a jazz-tinged live rendition of his crown jewel "Colour of Anyhow," sit alongside the joyous, synthetic keyboard treasures of "La Vita" and "Sunset Village."
The nonlinear tracklist seems like a missed opportunity to trace Copeland's artistic trajectory, but it makes a sort of sense — his music exists on a whirling spectrum, only growing more adventurous with age, a wheel of sound unconcerned with time or barriers.
From his self-titled 1970s folk records to his 1986 landmark album Keyboard Fantasies to Transmissions' newest song, the haunting "River Dreams," Copeland's music radiates a nearly uncontained delight. However, this isn't to say his music is always cheerful, that it isn't tearful or lonely. It's to say that his music contains the pulse of life, the understanding that even in heartbreak there is joy — that being alive, feeling at all, is a gift in and of itself. Finally, the world is ready to listen. (Transgressive)