Willard Grant Conspiracy

Willard Grant Conspiracy isn't so much a band as a concept, a swirling torrent of sounds and observations from the mind of its sole mainstay, singer and songwriter Robert Fisher. Having relocated from Boston to the fringes of the Mojave Desert, Fisher drew on the mysticism that surrounds this retreat...

By Lee Zimmerman

February 19, 2004

[
        {
          "name": "Air - MediumRectangle - Inline Content - Mobile Display Size",
          "component": "19274298",
          "insertPoint": "2",
          "requiredCountToDisplay": "2"
        },{
          "name": "Editor Picks",
          "component": "17482312",
          "insertPoint": "4",
          "requiredCountToDisplay": "1"
        },{
          "name": "Inline Links",
          "component": "18711090",
          "insertPoint": "8th",
          "startingPoint": 8,
          "requiredCountToDisplay": "7",
          "maxInsertions": 25
        },{
          "name": "Air - MediumRectangle - Combo - Inline Content",
          "component": "17482310",
          "insertPoint": "8th",
          "startingPoint": 8,
          "requiredCountToDisplay": "7",
          "maxInsertions": 25
        },{
          "name": "Inline Links",
          "component": "18711090",
          "insertPoint": "8th",
          "startingPoint": 12,
          "requiredCountToDisplay": "11",
          "maxInsertions": 25
        },{
          "name": "Air - Leaderboard Tower - Combo - Inline Content",
          "component": "17482313",
          "insertPoint": "8th",
          "startingPoint": 12,
          "requiredCountToDisplay": "11",
          "maxInsertions": 25
        }
      ]

Willard Grant Conspiracy isn't so much a band as a concept, a swirling torrent of sounds and observations from the mind of its sole mainstay, singer and songwriter Robert Fisher. Having relocated from Boston to the fringes of the Mojave Desert, Fisher drew on the mysticism that surrounds this retreat from California's suburban sprawl to sketch a series of mournful folk-Gothic ruminations, or what he describes as "a meditation on mortality." Sad, somber, sobering, it's more Sunday morning than Saturday night, brooding and yet compelling in some inexplicable way.

Regard the End unfolds as a cerebral sojourn of lo-fi proportions. An eleven-song album that weaves traditional numbers with Fisher originals, its haunting melancholia brings to mind Nick Cave, Leonard Cohen, and Johnny Cash's final song cycle in its depictions of desolation and despair. Though it's hardly the kind of thing you'd play when the gang's over for cocktails, the iridescent glow that illuminates "Beyond the Shore," "Soft Hand," and "Fare Thee Well" does bode well for a more metaphysical encounter.

KEEP NEW TIMES FREE... Since we started New Times, it has been defined as the free, independent voice of Miami, and we'd like to keep it that way. Your membership allows us to continue offering readers access to our incisive coverage of local news, food, and culture with no paywalls. You can support us by joining as a member for as little as $1.