Americana – Page 2 – 7th Level Music

Review: Vapors of Morphine – Fear and Fantasy

Starting with ambient sounds of bird songs, traffic, and other things you can’t quite identify, Vapors of Morphine‘s latest, Fear and Fantasy, is at times lush, other times haunting, and other times exotic.

“Blue Dream” certainly is dream-like, combining those ambient sounds with Dana Colley‘s signature smoky saxpohones, Jerome Deupree‘s subtle drumming, and Jeremy Lyons‘ sly vocals. Colley shares vocals with Lyons on “Golden Hour,” originally a Twinemen track (another band Colley was in after the death of Morphine lead singer Mark Sandman), and VOM’s version here is somehow trippier than the original. Listening to “Irene” is like slipping into a warm bath while surrounded by sage smoke. The sound that Colley produces with his saxophone on “No Sleep” is somewhere between angry bees and horny hummingbirds. It’s layered with so much reverb and distortion that it’s hard to describe…which means it’s great. Lyons’ love and influence of Appalachian blues comes through in his guitar work and vocals on “Special Rider,” exuding both sorrow and menace.

Tom Arey takes over on drums on the second side of the album, since Deupree left the band in 2019. Arey’s work can first be heard on “Lasidan,” an instrumental flavored with Middle Eastern flair (a sound VOM explored before on A New Low). “Drop Out Mambo” continues the band having fun with sounds and styles from around the world. A new version of Treat Her Right‘s “Doreen” is a fun treat for us long-time fans of Morphine and THR. It somehow seems sweatier and sultrier than the original.

“Ostrich” is a fun track with a honky tonk swagger that has Lyons wishing he could become different animals in order to avoid having to deal with the blues. “Baba Drame” is a blend of Middle Eastern and what sounds like Celtic styles with Lyons shredding on what sounds like a mandolin with riffs that sound like a callback to “Red Apple Juice” from A New Low. VOM get psychedelic on the instrumental “Phantasos & Phobetor,” because, why shouldn’t they? The name of the track refers to the Greek gods of surreal dreams and nightmares, respectively, and also to the name of the album. The closer is “Frankie & Johnny,” a fun floor-stomper that goes back to the band’s love of blues and bluegrass, with Ayers doing a fine job snapping out beats (with brushes, I think) and some of Lyon’s best guitar work on the album.

I love how Vapors of Morphine continue to salute their past and embrace new sounds in the present. Fear and Fantasy is more fine work from them.

Keep your mind open.

[I won’t get any sleep until you subscribe.]

Review: The Staples Jr. Singers – When Do We Get Paid (2022 reissue)

I’m not sure if I can relate in one blog post, or even several, how soulful and lovely When Do We Get Paid by The Staples Jr. Singers is. You’re hooked from the first notes of “Get on Board,” and the album takes you into a blissful, funky, soulful place without worry or strife

What’s even more amazing is how When Do We Get Paid has gone relatively unheard for the last four decades. Only a small number of copies were pressed in the 1970s, and this re-release is easily one of the best finds of the year. Annie, R.C., and Edward Brown took the name of their band from their love of the Staples family singers. The Staples Jr.’s toured the American south and blazed the gospel and grooves for years, and have each since gone on to their own respective music careers.

In modern speak, the album is full of bangers: “I’m Going to a City” will get you dancing in the pews and in the honky-tonks the Browns used to play. “Somebody Save Me” has sultry Alabama blues sweat all over it. I once heard someone say, more or less, “The difference between R&B and gospel is you replace ‘baby’ or ‘honey’ with ‘God’ or ‘Jesus’ in the lyrics.” “Somebody Save Me” perfectly embodies this concept.

“Trouble of the World” is a slow groove that has Annie Brown proclaiming how she’ll (and all of us) instantly forget the problems of this place of illusion once she passes beyond the veil. Indeed, she’s “Waiting for the Trumpet to Sound” on the following track, and you can’t help but start listening for it with her.

On “I Feel Good,” the Staples Jr. Singers let us know that we should all feel good in the knowledge that our sins have been forgiven. The title track has the band holding their heads high despite the racism they faced in 1970s southern U.S. (“More than three years the Staples have sung down here. All the music, here and there, sometimes trouble, sometimes heartbreak…call us everything but a child of God, but we not worrying about that…”).

“On My Journey Home” is almost a garage rock floor-stomper, and R.C.’s guitar work on “Too Close” touches the edges of psychedelic rock. The groove on “Send It on Down” is so good that it (and the whole album, really) must be inspired by the Holy Ghost, as they sing about throughout the track. The album ends with the uplifting “I Got a New Home,” which will get you out of your seat and clapping.

This album should be considered a classic. Heck, I’m surprised Moby or Fatboy Slim haven’t created an entire remix album of it. It’s a stunning work, and it deserves to be heard everywhere.

Keep your mind open.

[When do you subscribe?]

[Thanks to Sam at Pitch Perfect PR.]

Review: Pastor Champion – I Just Want to Be a Good Man

Pastor Champion, who left us for the Kingdom of Heaven just as his music was being discovered, was a man of many hats: Pastor, former gang member, touring guitarist, brother, and probably many others we’ll never learn about unless secret diaries or obscure notes are found.

We do know that he preached and played for the 37th Street Baptist Church in Oakland, California. We also know that his one and only album, I Just Want to Be a Good Man, was recorded with musicians who’d never played with him before then, and it was recorded in just two nights at his church. We also know that it’s a stunning record of gospel, blues, and soul that, if there’s any justice in this valley of tears, will win a Grammy for Best Gospel Album.

Champion pleads with people to come back to the church and Christ on “I Know That You’ve Been Wounded (Church Hurt)” – a song for those who have been disappointed, hurt (physically, mentally, and / or spiritually), or crushed by the church, religion, and families and friends practicing their faith in hurtful ways. “Keep on, God will make it work,” Champion sings over simple chords that almost sound like he’s playing a ukulele.

“He’ll Make a Way (Trust in the Lord)” further emphasizes the theme of relying on faith, and the power of Champion’s faith is evident from the first notes he sings in it. The nearly seven-minute “Talk to God” has Champion grooving with these church musicians he’s barely met, and all of them slide right into his groove with the ease that comes so naturally to accomplished gospel musicians.

“Only what you do for Christ will last,” Champion sings on “In the name of Jesus (Everytime)” – a reminder to put the Creator in the lead and trust His guidance. Hearing Champion teach his impromptu band how to play “To Be Used, by You (I Just Want to Be a Good Man)” is fun to hear, and the rest of the track is lovely (and a warm-up for the closing track).

“Who Do Men Say I Am?” has Champion singing a conversation between Christ and His disciples (from the sixteenth chapter of Matthew). “Storm of Life (Stand by Me)” has Champion crying out to God about troubles that plague him at work, at home, at church, and practically everywhere else – including his worry that he might not be ready for death. “In the Service of the Lord” has some of Champion’s most passionate vocals, and that’s saying something when you consider how much he professes his face throughout the record.

The album closes with the title track, expanding on the earlier version of it with, somehow, even more soul and longing. “Tell me, tell me, tell me, Jesus, what do you want me to do?” Champion sings.

He’s doing things we can’t even fathom now, but at least we have this record as a light in gloomy times.

Keep your mind open.

[Don’t forget to subscribe before you split.]

[Thanks to Sam at Pitch Perfect PR.]

The Staples Jr. Singers release “I’m Looking for a Man” from rare 1970s gospel / funk album.

The Staples Jr. Singers share “I’m Looking For A Man,” from the forthcoming reissue of their sole album, When Do We Get Paid, originally released in 1975, out May 6th on Luaka Bop. In conjunction, the family from Aberdeen, Mississippi, share a live performance video of the new single recorded this past January, and announce a slate of performances in New York City taking place on Saturday, April 23rd, at Baby’s All Right, The Lot Radio, and Friends & Lovers.

Following an invite-only, press preview at The Paris Review in Chelsea, these concerts will be the Staples Jr. Singers’ first performances as a group in over 40 years. It will be their first-ever visit to New York City, as well as an extremely rare appearance outside the South. Presented by Luaka Bop and Boom Collective, this ambitious series of shows—three in one day!—will begin with a “Gospel Brunch” at Baby’s All Right in Williamsburg, then move outdoors to The Lot in Greenpoint, where the Staples Jr. Singers will be broadcast live on-air. While these first two shows will be free, the day will be capped off with a grand finale, an extended set at Friends & Lovers in Crown Heights. It may be one of the best performances that you’ll see all year. The original members of the family band—the siblings Edward Brown, A.R.C. Brown, and Annie Brown Caldwell—will be joined onstage by members of Annie’s family, including her husband Wille Caldwell Sr. and their children Willie Jr., Abel, and Deborah. For tickets, RSVP and more information, go to JuniorSingers.com.

Listen to “I’m Looking For A Man” by the Staples Jr. Singers

Watch the Staples Jr. Singers Perform “I’m Looking For A Man” (January 2022)

Like many gospel groups at the time, the Staples Jr. Singers were a family band: Annie Brown Caldwell was 11, A.R.C. Brown was 12, and Edward Brown was only 13 when they started playing school talent shows, local churches, and front yards near their hometown of Aberdeen, Mississippi, on the banks of the Tombigbee River. As was common practice among gospel acts, they named themselves after their idols: the Staple Singers. As their reputation grew, they started traveling across the Delta and the Bible Belt, piling into their family van on weekends to perform as many as three shows in a single day.

In 1975, at the time of When Do We Get Paid’s release, the Staples Jr. Singers were still just teenagers, and they sold the copies they pressed themselves at shows and on their front lawn to neighbors. With soul-inflected gospel songs that carried timely, subtle social messages, the Staples Jr. Singers responded to what they saw in the South: the struggles of the Black community, the backlash after desegregation, CivilRights.

While the Staples Jr. Singers have all gone on to write an entire catalog of gospel music since the era of When Do We Get Paid, for the original members of the band, the incantatory funk of this music still holds the power to help make a way out of dark and troubled times.

This project from Luaka Bop originates from their acclaimed compilation World Spirituality Classics 2: The Time for Peace Is Now – Gospel Music About Us (2019), which includes the Staples Jr. Singers’ single “We’ve Got a Race to Run” (Best New Music by Pitchfork (8.5), and listed among the best reissues of the year by NPR and Uncut). The compilation also resulted in the 2020 VinylFactory documentary, “The Time For Peace Is Now,” featuring Annie Brown Caldwell.
The Staples Jr. Singers Live In New York City, presented with Boom Collective:
Fri. Apr. 22 – New York, NY @ The Paris Review (press preview, invite only)
Sat. Apr. 23 – Brooklyn, NY @ Baby’s All Right (11am) (RSVP needed, here)
Sat. Apr. 23 – Brooklyn, NY @ The Lot Radio (3pm, live broadcast) (RSVP needed, here)
Sat. Apr. 23 – Brooklyn, NY @ Friends and Lovers (7pm) (Tickets, here)

Listen to “When Do We Get Paid” by The Staples Jr. Singers

Pre-order When Do We Get Paid Reissue

“Please Meet The Staple Jr. Singers” film

Keep your mind open.

[I’m looking for your subscription.]

[Thanks to Sam at Pitch Perfect PR.]

Seth Walker drops the truth with his new single “The Future Ain’t What It Used to Be.”

Seth Walker has announced his eleventh album, I Hope I Know, will be released May 20 on Royal Potato Family. It’s the North Carolina-based singer/songwriter’s third studio collaboration with producer Jano Rix. Each song on the ten track collection shines with what many have come to love about Walker and his soulful Americana: diverse influences, contemplative lyrics, that signature blue tone on the guitar, and movement both geographic and spiritual. The album’s first single, “The Future Ain’t What It Used To Be” is out today (listen/share). Walker will support the album with a U.S. tour beginning in May.

I Hope I Know might best be described as Walker’s ’round-midnight album. Written in the midst of a breakup, relocating from his home in Nashville, TN to Asheville, NC, and the enduring mental struggles of the pandemic, it’s a beautiful reckoning with heartbreak, moving across states and coming to terms with the uncertainty of the future. Its tempos are slower and tonality darker than on previous work. In Walker’s words, he had to just “sit with it.” The music’s creation embodied trying and failing without forcing anything: not time, not the songwriting or its grooves, not a sense of control, not even his own healing. He credits the practice of “search and surrender,” a quest for new meaning in things he may never fully understand.

“This last year and a half has personally cracked me open. In many ways, for the first time, I’m observing myself and how I relate to the music, how I sit with the feeling, the emotion, my shadow and light,” explains Walker. “I have always been in this place of action, and finally, when all this happened, I found myself in a place of relinquishing—an active state of inaction.”

The first sessions for I Hope I Know began in 2019, but it wouldn’t be until the second half of 2020 when Walker would truly dive into the writing and recording process. Oliver Wood—Jano Rix’s bandmate in The Wood Brothers—cowrote three of the songs, as did Walker’s longtime songwriting partner Gary Nicholson, while Jarrod Dickenson also contributed to one song. Among the album’s highlights are “Why Do I Cry Anymore,” which asks unanswerable questions about recovering from heartbreak, ultimately coming to the conclusion that love is still worth it. “Remember Me” haunts with old jazz and blues, a falsetto vocal, arco acoustic bass and dusty drums. The title track came from the “Ho’oponopono Prayer,” a Hawaiian poem about forgiveness and reconciliation that his mother sent him, which translates as “I am sorry. Forgive me. Thank you. I love you.” Special guest Allison Russell adds vocal harmonies.

Three cover songs featured on the recording offer something familiar to hold onto—a tinge of nostalgia, minus the impulse to cling to the past. The Bobby Charles‘ song “Tennessee Blues” perfectly speaks to Walker moving from Nashville into the mountains of Asheville as he tried to “figure out what just happened, post break up.” Van Morrison‘s “Warm Love” is the perfect respite and breather. Bob Dylan‘s “Buckets of Rain” came spontaneously like a dream; Seth woke up one morning with the song in his head and quickly captured this rendition.

The follow up to Walker’s 2019 album, Are You Open?—which debuted at No. 2 on the Billboard Blues Album Chart—I Hope I Know is a distinct statement from the previous ten recordings in Walker’s discography. In its totality, the songs create a deep, but relatable journey, offering a beacon of light and ultimately safe haven, centered around the most precious of all gifts—Hope.

Keep your mind open.

[Don’t forget to subscribe before you go.]

[Thanks to Kevin at Royal Potato Family.]

Joe Rainey announces debut album, due May 20th, with powerful first single – “no chants.”

Pow Wow singer Joe Rainey announces his debut album, Niineta, out May 20th on 37d03d (the label founded by Justin Vernon of Bon Iver, and Bryce and Aaron Dessner of the National), and shares the first single/video, “no chants.” On Niineta, Rainey demonstrates his command of the Pow Wow style, descending from Indigenous singing that’s been heard across the waters of what is now called Minnesota for centuries, and accompanied by cinematic, bass-heavy production from Minneapolis producer Andrew Broder. Depending on the song or the pattern, his voice can celebrate or console, welcome or intimidate, wake you up with a start or lull your babies to sleep. Each note conveys a clear message, no matter the inflection: We’re still here. We were here before you were, and we never left.

Rainey grew up a Red Lake Ojibwe in Minneapolis, a city with one of the largest and proudest Native American populations in the country. The Red Lake Reservation sits five hours to the North, a sovereign state unto itself, but Rainey grew up down in what Northerners call “The Cities,” in his mom’s house on historic Milwaukee Avenue on Minneapolis’ South Side. He was raised less than a mile away from Franklin Avenue, the post-Reorganization Act urban nexus of local Native American life, a community centered in the Little Earth housing projects and the Minneapolis American Indian Center. The neighborhood still serves as a home for both the housed and the un-housed, and the don’t-even-wanna-be-housed Native. It is the birthplace of the American Indian Movement (AIM), the pioneering grassroots civil rights organization founded to combat the colonizing forces of police brutality. Rainey came of age in the heart of this community, but always felt like he was living in a liminal space—not that he was uncomfortable with that. “Growing up, knowing that you weren’t from the Rez, but you were repping them, was kind of weird,” he says. “But I liked that.”

Rainey became interested in Pow Wow singing as a child—at the age of five, he started recording Pow Wow singing groups with his GE tape recorder, and his mom enrolled him in a dancing and singing practice with the Little Earth Juniors soon thereafter. As a pre-teen he began hanging out around The Boyz (a legendary Minneapolis drum group) at a house some of them stayed at in the Little Earth projects. By the time he was a teenager he had found enough courage to help start The Boyz Juniors, his first drum group, before going on to sing with Big Cedar, Wolf Spirit, Raining Thunder, Iron Boy, and eventually, Midnite Express, a new drum group featuring some of The Boyz themselves. Rainey was always just as much of a fan as he was a participant—when he wasn’t at his own drum, he was recording other drums, then studying the tapes when he got home, admiring and cataloging the different singing styles, whether it was Northern Cree, Cozad or Eyabay.

On Niineta, Rainey finds himself in between cultures again. This time collaborating with Andrew Broder, who brought his multi-instrumentalist, turntablist sensibility to the project. The two of them first met backstage at Justin Vernon’s hometown Eaux Claires music festival before encountering each other more frequently through Vernon and Aaron and Bryce Dessner’s 37d03d collective—both contributing to the last Bon Iver album before broaching the possibility of working together sometime in the future. “At first I didn’t know what I could add to Joe’s incredible recordings,” Broder says. “But eventually I came to understand everything is rooted in the drum—even the songs on our record that have no drum, they’re still rooted in the drum.” So each song started with Broder’s beats, the two of them experimenting with various sounds and tempos, before bringing in other 37d03d collaborators to orchestrate and recontextualize the ancient Pow Wow sound in strange, new in-between places. The album pulls from Rainey’s vast sample folder of Pow Wow recordings, layering and remixing slices of his life of singing in venues across the upper Midwest and Canada.

Rainey got his title, Niineta, from his drum brother Michael Migizi Sullivan, who suggested a short version of the Ojibwe term meaning, “just me.” But he’s using the term only in the sense that he’s taking sole responsibility for its content. Rainey is protective of Pow Wow culture—which was outlawed by the United States government for a generation, defiantly maintained in secret by Native elders he deeply respects—while trying to figure out exactly where he fits into it and how he can fuck with it on his own terms. He uses the analogy of working the hotel room door at a Pow Wow. “You can think of this like, hey man, if all these people are going to be fucking knocking and I’m the one answering the door, you’re going to realize that I’m not the only one in this motherfucker. There’s tons of people in here. So if I’m answering that door, I want to be like, hey, yeah, come on in. There’s fucking tons of us in here. It ain’t just me.”
Watch/Stream “no chants”

Pre-order Niineta

Keep your mind open.

[Don’t forget to subscribe before you go.]

[Thanks to Patrick at Pitch Perfect PR.]

Georgia Harner releases debut single – “Headrush.”

Georgia Harmer, Toronto-based singer-songwriter, and the newest signee to Arts & Cras, introduces herself to the world today with “Headrush.” Coming from a family of artists and poets, including aunt and labelmate Sarah Harmer, Georgia cut her teeth as a backing vocalist for Alessia Cara before beginning to focus on her own music. This debut single presents Georgia’s striking voice—a cross-hatching of Joni Mitchell’s birdsong, the emotional vulnerability of Adrianne Lenker and the seductive tones of Hope Sandoval. “Headrush” opens with cascading drums that fall into a deliberate stride, filling out with rich melodies accompanied confidently by electric guitar draped in distortion.

“Headrush” is a slow-burn with melodic release, alight with electricity, but tinged with the melancholy of late summer : “Hours go by / Let’s drink up the sky / And spend some time / Being little kids.” Georgia’s music is sweetness personified, but with a depth of emotion, style, and hunger that belies her twenty-two years. “I miss moments when I’m no longer in them,” Georgia says. “‘Headrush’ is about wanting to go back to a moment and be completely present. Back to that summer day I didn’t realize was heaven until it had passed, only grasping its potency in retrospect.”

Recorded live off the floor with friends crammed into the corner of a converted West Toronto garage, “Headrush” embodies that DIY essence, harnessing lightning in slow, measured doses. The accompanying video, directed by Jimmy Vi, captures this energy.

Watch Georgia Harmer’s Video for “Headrush”

Georgia Harmer Tour Dates
Mon. Nov. 22 – Toronto, ON @ Danforth Music Hall ^

Tue. Nov. 23 – Kitchener, ON @ Centre in the Square ^

^ = w/ Dan Mangan

Keep your mind open.

[Rush over to the subscription box while you’re here.]

[Thanks to Jaycee at Pitch Perfect PR.]

Review: Alex Maas – Levitation Sessions

Essentially a live version of Alex Maas’ (of The Black Angels, MIEN, and other projects) first solo album, Luca, Levitation Sessions is, as he puts it in the notes on his Bandcamp page, “…a glimpse into what a tour on this record would look like had we not been in a pandemic.”

It’s a shame he wasn’t able to tour behind it, because this live session shows how good those shows would’ve been. The songs aren’t as loud or face-melting as many Black Angels songs, but they are no less haunting, hypnotizing, and mood-altering. “Shines Like the Sun” opens the album with Maas singing to his family about their changing, blessed dynamic. “Special” fades in and out like incense smoke curling out of a temple or efficiency apartment window. Maas’ voice has always sounded like it was made with built-in reverb, and “All Day” is a great example of this. The dub flavor of it is outstanding.

The thumping bass of “Elastic” gets under your skin as much as Maas’ lyrics like, “We don’t want you to die. We just want you to suffer the rest of your life.” You get the feeling that the “we” he’s referencing are forces perhaps out of our control or even understanding. “Leather in the Foreground” has a slinky, kinky groove to it – which is absolutely appropriate for a song with a title like that.

“The city makes you feel so small…Sometimes love seems so damn far away,” Maas sings on “500 Dreams,” one of the loveliest tracks on the album and written to his child as he hopes for the best for him in a world that seems determined to bring all of us down to the lowest level.

“Keep Your Balance” induces dreams of faraway lands and exotic, somewhat dangerous fantasies amid hand percussion, Middle Eastern strings, and vocals that almost becomes mantras. “Too Much Hate” was written before the last election, and, unfortunately, its message still holds true. “Slip Into”…what, exactly? Judging from the sound and feel of the song, it could be anything from sleep or a warm bath to eternal sleep or a cold shower.

The slow, country ballad sound of “Paint You in the Sunshine” is a pleasant surprise, and certainly highlights one of many of Maas’ Texas regional music influences. “The Light That Will End Us” covers one of Maas’ favorite songwriting topics – death. His voice, slightly altered by reverb effects, becomes a ghostly call from a bright light that embraces shadow rather than cast it. “American Conquest” covers another base that Maas likes to write about – war. The opening bass and guitars on it grab you by the collar and demand you listen – almost talking the forefront from his vocals.

“You should’ve been struggling like all of the rest,” Maas sings on “Shoulda Been Struggling” – a song full of uplifting guitar riffs and messages to close the album. There are people out there who want you to share their misery, and cannot fathom why you won’t. They want you to mourn how they mourn, protest what they protest, dislike what they dislike, shun what they shun…but you know in your heart that such endeavors are wastes of time and energy.

This album isn’t. It’s a beautiful record from a gifted musician and writer that will make you view things in a different light.

Keep your mind open.

[Levitate on over to the subscription box while you’re here.]

Review: Lucy Dacus – Home Video

If they gave out awards for Most Brutally Honest Album of the Year, Lucy Dacus‘ Home Video would certainly win it in 2021.

The singer-songwriter’s new record is a deep dive into her upbringing, teen years, and even recent years. It’s a record about self-exploration, finding and losing love and friends, and always moving forward despite the past trying to put on the brakes.

“Hot & Heavy” opens with bold guitars and bolder lyrics by Dacus about fiery passion that fades but is never forgotten. “Christine” tells a story about Dacus and a dear friend riding along one night in the back of her friend’s boyfriend’s car…and Dacus knowing her friend is stuck in a relationship that will do nothing but hold back her friend from her true potential (“If you get married, I’ll just throw my shoe at the altar and lose your respect. I’d rather lose my dignity than lose you to someone who won’t make you happy.”).

“First Time” hides a tale of new love and new sex under its rock drums and guitar strums. “In the summer of ’07, I was sure I’d go to heaven,” Dacus sings in the beginning of “VBS” (Vacation Bible School), a song about teenage sexual and spiritual confusion that erupts into buzz saw guitar at one point. “Cartwheel” starts with the sound of a record or tape starting up from a dead stop and quickly becomes an acoustic ballad for someone who chose another over her.

As if the album wasn’t heartbreaking enough, “Thumbs” is a song about Dacus fantasizing and offering about killing her friend’s long-absent father when he comes to town for a visit and pretends nothing is wrong. “Going Going Gone” is another song about walking away from a relationship she knows with yield no further results.

Dacus’ use of Autotune on “Partner in Crime” is jarring at first, but makes sense when you consider it’s a song about duplicity. “Brando” is a tale of Dacus skipping school with a boy to watch movies, knowing that he’s Mr. Not Quite Right but going along anyway. “Please Stay” is a soft plead for Dacus’ lover not to leave just yet, and how seeing their items around her place is like walking through a museum of heartbreak. The album ends with “Triple Dog Dare,” a song / confession about Dacus exploring her sexuality and being nervous as hell the whole time. It’s a gorgeous coda to the whole record.

I’m tempted to write, “This record is not for the timid.” due to it’s raw honesty, but maybe it is. It’s a record for anyone feeling timid about who they are, who they love, or who they can become.

Keep your mind open.

[Don’t forget to subscribe while you’re here.]

[Thanks to Jessica at Pitch Perfect PR.]

Review: Liam Kazar – Due North

“I hang my coat on any old hook, but I prefer the second from the left,” Liam Kazar sings on the opening track of his fun, funky, and solid debut album Due North. The album mixes a lot of influences, sometimes sounding like a Warren Zevon album, other times like a Lindsey Buckingham or Joe Jackson record, but most of the time like Kazar’s groovy self. It’s the kind of album that makes you want to hang out with him for a night just to hear his stories.

That opener, “So Long Tomorrow,” blends Kazar’s rock guitar with a groovy bass line and his witty lyrics as he tells himself, and the rest of us, to stay in the present. “Old Enough for You” bumps and bubbles like a witch’s brew created in a disco, with Kazar singing about trying to be hip and refined in order to impress a potential lover. The sassy, swinging “Shoes Too Tight” was one of my favorite singles of 2020. The whole thing grooves in a way that is hard to describe and impossible to ignore.

“Nothing to You” mixes some alt-country twang into the record while Kazar sings about pining from afar for someone who barely knows he exists. “On a Spanish Dune” starts off like a sad synthwave track and then transforms into a meditation on the self. “Everybody’s asking me what I’m going to be. I couldn’t tell you if I tried. I’m just a poem with an open line,” Kazar sings – and sums up presence and ennui in two sentences.

“The clouds are coming over, but I shouldn’t be surprised,” Kazar sings on “Frank Bacon” – a snappy, slick track with some smooth guitar work from him and plenty of lyrics about realizing you have to play the hand you’re dealt and make the best of it. “I’ve Been Where You Are” has synthwave touches while Kazar let’s us know that he’s been in the same boat of the blues as we’ve all journey on from time to time.

The slightly countrified “No Time for Eternity” has some of Kazar’s best vocal work (with help from Andrew Sa). He keeps it simple, which gives it more impact. “Give My World” takes on a bluesy feel with its lyrics and guitar work, but then becomes something dreamy with the use of bird calls and psychedelic synths. “It seems I haven’t changed, half as much as I’ve let you down,” Kazar sings in a brutally honest self-appraisal. The synths turn into church organs on the closer, “Something Tender” – a song about realizing that enabling and embracing illusions, especially those in relationships, ultimately leads to misery.

Due North is a stunning debut, and easily one of the best debuts I’ve heard in a while and one of the best albums of the year. There’s nothing here you won’t like.

Keep your mind open.

[The subscription box is due west of this.]

[Thanks to Jaycee at Pitch Perfect PR.]