The June Carriers is the newly minted project by Portuguese songwriter Francisco Silva (a.k.a. Old Jerusalem). His newest full-length, Equanimity is a departure from his prolific past, turning to open-ended guitar works that are warm in tone, measured in pace, and ponderous in structure.

Guitarists are a tricky bunch.

I’m a guitarist, but I’m not really, because what really does that mean? What I mean when I say I’m a guitarist is that I play that instrument, have been known to play it in bands, and that I consider it my original platform for organizing and understanding melody, harmony, rhythm, and timbre. I’m not actually that talented at the guitar though — especially compared to the bajillion bonafide shredders out there, I can’t really keep up once things get cooking — but that’s where this idea of one’s original platform becomes a point of solidarity between guitarists.

For most musicians and composers, it’s either the guitar, the piano, a monophonic instrument like the saxophone or even the human voice. (For conductors, it’s all instruments, which makes them brilliant.) It’s the original map your brain starts to make of the relationships between note distance, chord feels, tonal resonance, and performance habits and haptics.

How one comprehends the possibilities of musical language deeply informs how one then uses that language, its syntax and grammar, to make every single choice in the process of making music.

On a “solo guitar” record for example, precisely the kind of record we’re privy to via The June Carriers’ Equanimity, the guitarist’s language comes extremely and intimately into focus. But why I’m even thinking about this now (of all times), is that for someone who’s spent over 20 years writing guitar accompaniment to lyrical folk-pop songs, there’s evidence to suggest his native ear skews guitar-original, and nothing on this record sounds like it’s compromising for lack of a vocal presence.

Hence, I would venture to argue that this is the album Francisco Silva has always wanted to make. And it almost sounds like he’s found something here that he’s been searching for for a long, long time.

A highlight of 2024 so far, for sure, I think Silva made an absolutely gorgeous, creatively playful record. Take a listen:

Silva’s loops and cycles make way for a variety of potential, and his execution is always unpredictable. Which I find myself surprised at saying, because from start to finish this is an undeniably consonant, diatonic record. Not much dissonance.

And yet, he still finds ways to traverse the unknown up and down the neck of his electric guitar.

Similarly, there’s a ton of repetition in his music, but never without the feeling of forward movement. One is never left bored, or feeling static. In a way this is perhaps a direct result of using a lot of overdubs to play alongside himself — there’s almost never less than three guitar tracks happening simultaneously — but it doesn’t feel like a “loop station album” either.

Usually Silva will incorporate some abstract sounds or distant, staccato stabs as a backdrop, a “vibe swell” (which as of now is totally a thing that I created, please give me credit when you use it, you vultures!), and a chordal cycle touching on sombre emotive feels.

Okay now for the abstract stuff.

Listening to Silva’s pieces in full is reminiscent of watching a flock of whirling dervishes dancing, meditating, performing. It isn’t necessarily about precision, so there are dancers spinning at different speeds, arms spiralling at different rates, fabric flowing in different curvatures, motions sending bent light refractions scattered around the room.

But it’s all happening together, and it’s one solid form. Your eyes can adjust to see the full picture play out in unison or focus on the individual parts and their unique expressiveness. It’s up to you and it’s all valid.

This is a lovely record with no rough edges. It’s a putter-onner when you’re having company over for dinner as much as it can score your drive through the farmland skies of Iowa.

Please check out The June Carriers.

Listen and purchase here, please.