Marcus Koncar: The Inevitable and Utah
Marcus Koncar proposed that we make our way to their apartment to view the collection of assorted instruments they had recently acquired. The year was 2016, and Marcus was only a casual acquaintance of mine. They towered over me by a foot and a half and were marked by a sense of stoicism, a pretty face, and the recognition of the inevitably of death that is reminiscent of a hero from a Spaghetti Western. Despite all of this the only words that I can muster to describe Marcus are delicate, fragile, and kind.
They led me to a congested bedroom filled with a myriad of relics: an ironic collection of Smash Mouth CDs sprawled across the floor, a stack of student IDs— some given, some “found”, postcards from distinct places, and of course the infamous collection of various instruments. I watched as they pulled out their instruments with enthusiasm as I sat in awe. They gave a comprehensive explanation of each one before setting it down and moving on to the next. Among them were: an accordion purchased from a Bosnian man in the back parking lot of the D.I., harmonicas, acoustic, baritone, classical and electric guitars, tambourines, an auto-harp, and a banjo which would later become the main staple to their music
“It’s just a lot of fun layering stuff mostly and I like songs with a goofy amount of instruments a lot.” Marcus shrugged.
However, it wasn’t until I excused myself to the bathroom that they began to strum a riff on the acoustic guitar. As I leaned against the sink, looking into the mirror, I wondered if they were playing a record. When I returned to the room, I was astonished when I found that it was the self-taught 19-year old that was playing so beautifully. They explained to me that they became enthralled by music after being hospitalized on the eve of their high school graduation with bleeding ulcers. The near-death experience sparked a sense of urgency in them that would ultimately lead them to their music career. Nonetheless, the passage of time failed to reduce their anxiety surrounding death. I recently encountered them at their current place of work, The Salt Lake Public Library, where they professed to me that they were acutely aware that the wedge-shaped glass building could completely shatter with the slightest shift of the Earth.
As the years followed after we initially became acquainted, I earned the privilege to hear Marcus play at different coffee shops where they were employed. In between customers they would nestle themselves behind the pastry glass with a banjo in hand, and fill the room with soft melancholic melodies. Periodically, I would interrupt them with a litany of music-related questions. Possessing an extensive knowledge of music, Marcus can talk incessantly about tempos, time and key signatures, the history of artists, and metaphors entwined in song lyrics.
“I started making music almost entirely because of The Glow Pt. 2 by The Microphones, Giles Corey, The Roots by Radical Face, and Seven Swans by Sufjan Stevens. Those albums have nice aesthetics that have affected me in ways that made me want to communicate stuff through music and full albums.” Marcus would repeatedly gush over their inspirations.
Frequently, I would find Marcus hunched over the coffee bar scribbling song lyrics on a yellow legal pad. Throughout Marcus’ musical journey they have written devastating music about an array of topics such as childhood, family dysfunction, existentialism, and death. Marcus Koncar currently has two albums under the banner ‘R. Candall Lark’. They previously have been featured in SLUG Magazine popular Localized Showcase as well as Salt Lake City Weekly.
In their most recent endeavor, Marcus released a concept album dedicated to the state of Utah under their legal name. Inspired by Sufjan Stevens out of commission 50 states project, Utah explores the historical aspects of the state as well as creates a unique tone in which Marcus describes the state through a personal and philosophical lens.
“I’ve spent years since I listened to Michigan by Sufjan thinking of how an album about Utah would sound and I eventually couldn’t stop thinking about so I felt like I had to add to the canon of the defunct 50 states project, even if it’s only relevant to me. As well as I feel like Utah is a very complicated place so it felt interesting to write about for me.” they commented about their writing experience, “It’s a lot less personal. A lot of my other material has been very one take, a stream of consciousness writing with a general outline and Utah was drafted a lot more I guess? I started writing it in the fall of 2017 and I finished it early summer of 2019 so I went through a few different versions of it”
Along with producing, main vocals, writing, and mixing, Marcus is responsible for the majority of instruments heard throughout Utah. However, several sit-in musicians were recruited to aide with the project: Ivy Augusta Smith, Riley Pollock, Alex Ford, John Olshinki, Ali Sortibran, Gates Whittekiend, and Annalise Egan. Together, these talented musicians breath life into the album. The result is an instrumentally layered album that is a basin for nostalgic memories in which the forgotten wastelands of Utah’s deserts are brought to light.
“The places I chose to write about were stuff I already had known stories about for the most part, or places that were important to me,” Marcus voiced about the process of stringing a narrative together on a concept album.
The opening track on Utah, ‘Crawl, on hands and knees, over the sandstone and through the thornbush and cactus’ begins with the soft chirping of birds that bleed into the slow tensions of drum beats. These beats which seem to be a tribute to traditional Native American music, erupt into chaotic sounds that are interrupted by a staticky recording of the writer, Edward Abbey. In the recording Abbey, describes the existential horror of nature inevitably one day taking our bodies. “Everything comes and goes, we all begin, rise and fade-away, what then? Abbey says on the track, further solidifying the thanatophobia that echoes throughout the album.
“Edward Abbey is a super interesting guy who did a lot of important work. I don’t think I agree with him on everything, but he’s definitely a fascinating guy to read about. That first song’s title is a quote from his book Desert Solitaire that I always really liked so I wanted the chance to get him to express himself over that song if I was shamelessly ripping off his words for the title.” Marcus exclaimed about his inclusion of Edwards Abbey’s words.
The album takes a heart-rending turn on the banjo-led ballad, ‘Saint George, You’ve Got Mine and I want yours’. Though the majority of the songs on the album are embellished with sporadically placed instruments, this track holds a raw edge. At this point in Utah, the emotional barrier that was once built begins to crevice, and Marcus’ alluring baritone voice seeps through the cracks, leaving the listener with an aching heart and a nostalgic memory of familial disruption. The repercussion is an immensely intimate song that is both lulling and sorrowful.
“ I had gone on a road trip with my mom to Saint George when I was 12 at it was the only time I had been there when I wrote that song. I wanted a song to communicate the feeling of a dragon burning down Saint George as you desperately ask it to love you. I don’t know if that answers that question?” Marcus mentioned to me when I asked about their thought process while writing the song.
The themes addressed in the album ultimately converge ingeniously on the last song. ‘The inevitable crack on the Wasatch Front...And the Water Drained From The Great Salt Lake, and No One Was There To See It Cave.’ On the track, Marcus compares the unavoidable obliteration of the Wasatch mountains to the nature of death. ‘Death will come inevitably. Well maybe that's what scares me, that inevitability’ Marcus solemnly sings while accompanied by the gentle melody of a trumpet in the background. ‘And when I die just roll me out into the lake, so I can float the rest of my days, just like my grandfather when he swam to see Jim Bridger’ they continue to sing. With it’s whispered notes and existential observations the album ends on a pensive note. The feeling is empty.
“ I wanted the last song to be a big thing about earthquakes and all that but I felt sad ‘cause I accidentally wrote the song about my grandfather more than I realized with the one line so I mostly felt sad about that while recording it,” Marcus explained.
Utah is a poetic album that evokes vulnerability and melancholic beauty. With their keen observations, musical skill, artistic lyrics, Marcus Koncar has the makings of an astounding musician. I will be eagerly waiting to hear what they decide to release next.
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Utah is available to stream using the links below
Bandcamp: https://rcandalllark.bandcamp.com
Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/album/5S2tXV22WV3cAO1jw6YGhQ