Al Olender is a songstress from upstate New York, with a knack for unraveling our biggest fears and emotions in her own words. As recent years have forced her to get to know herself on a deeper level, her music stages itself as borderline therapy for those of us who are muscling through tough times as well. Her first full length–aptly titled Easy Crier–is out now, and we implore you to experience it with your own ears.
“All I Do is Watch TV” has a title we can all get behind after being locked away during a pandemic, but the song itself is so unimaginably magnetic, and such a beautiful way to open this initial full-length of hers. The song itself is about dealing with the loss of a loved one, found in lines like “I read a book on grief, it told me to lay in bed.” Second track “Keith”–named after her older brother, who was lost too soon–is a testament to a life gone awry. Incredibly specific, yet viscerally relatable. She continues in this pattern with the delicate “Liar Liar,” which transports you to these moments and this intense feeling of melancholy.
“Djouliet” picks the pace up a bit, with notably light piano that makes the track, quite honestly, perfect for the summer months. The title track is infinitely relatable, as Olender discusses her experiences as though they are fleeting moments, passing her by on a screen. Her detachment–even during the pleasant memories–is incredibly notable, especially for those who have experienced any level of depression in their lives. And yet, she sings it all with an ethereal disposition, as though it hasn’t affected her at all.
But that is, perhaps, Oldender’s greatest superpower, as revealed throughout all ten tracks of this release. Her beautiful vocals feel untouched by any negativity, a slight release from the chokehold of seriousness that has seemed to enshrine us these past few months especially. And yet the subject matter is so much more complex. “Forget Your Number” is bittersweet and a bit vengeful, and we’re absolutely in love with it. “Neptune Pool” and “Minnesota Waltz” follow suit, employing silence between the notes to encourage a more emotional pull. “The Age” picks the pace up and layers in more instruments alongside boosted optimism. It serves as a quick one-two punch to get your heart rate up, almost blindsiding you with the return to delicacy in the final track “Mean.”
Keep up with Al Olender and her endearing music here.
Harborcoat’s newest LP, “Joy Is Elusive”, debuts on October 1. The sextet, based in Lansing, Michigan, has created a set of songs that are lyrically thoughtful and musically varied. The band’s influences include R.E.M. (the name Harborcoat is from an R.E.M. song), The Smiths, and Billy Bragg and you can hear the impact of those artists on “Joy Is Elusive”.
Band founder and primary songwriter Matthew Carlson explains:
A record titled ‘Joy Is Elusive’ is almost certainly going to be about depression, anxiety and a lifelong struggle with mental illness. That much is true, but there’s more. I think for so many of us, we deny ourselves true joy, or are too afraid to go out and find it. I know that is certainly true in my own experience. The people and the stories in this record are living lives of survival, not a full life. They’re eking out these threadbare existences of shabby surroundings, little hope and the occasional diversion from their struggles. Those diversions most often come by way of self medication or desperate choices with dire consequences. The lyrical content of the album is buoyed by joyous and dense musical foundations. These songs embrace the ethos of what Tom Waits once called, “Beautiful melodies telling me terrible things.” These songs are like short stories with chords. The band name is pulled from an early R.E.M. gem, and the music brims with nods to our heroes. The songs recall the crunchy power pop and harmonies of Teenage Fanclub; the introspection and melodic storytelling of Billy Bragg; and sprinkled in are moments of 80’s esque Brit-Pop or working-class anthems. These influences, however, do not define the record, but they are merely a strand of DNA in Harborcoat’s collective musical helix.
Just before we began recording the record, my Dad died very suddenly. It seemed very likely, I was not going to be in a spot logistically or emotionally to go through with the sessions. My family, and friends all stepped up and convinced me what a tremendous relief it might be to spend a week recording with friends at the family cabin. It was the best possible diversion. I maintain that you can hear our collective grief between the notes of the record, but maybe I just can’t remove myself from it. The loss of my Dad, the uncertainty of the pandemic and the collective anxieties that come will all of that certainly informed the process and the finished product. It feels now like a tribute to ho him that we were able to create something beautiful from all of that darkness.
Two particular track favorites of mine are ‘Help Me Out Somehow’ and ‘Hear Me, I’m Courageous’. Both have spirited, Indie rock melodies with poignant lyrics. Following the release of “Joy Is Elusive”, Harborcoat heads out on an eight city tour to finish up 2021.
For a rip-roarin’ good time, country singer/songwriter Charlie Treat’s new album is the perfect answer to your prayers. Beginning with the amped-up energy of “I Ain’t Gonna Be The One To Do It,” he finds a way to lure the audience in with wit and a bite of nostalgia in the instrumentals. Even the slow down of pace with the second track “Drink With Me” holds lengthy, rhythmic lines, with (what appears to me to be) clear nods to The Black Crowes. (“Hard To Handle,” specifically, for those of you asking. And yes, it did take me calling the insanely talented music journalist Elizabeth Schneider to pinpoint the exact sound. Kudos to her.) Just those two tracks will have your mind spinning, but there are ten more inspired songs left to enjoy past that with this new release.
“The Two Best People” really brings the energy down, while singing of “bringing each other down.” Bluesy, beautiful energy to launch you into a light, airy “Tune As Pretty As You.” “Steamshovel Blues” brings the pace up again, but “So Much Better” lulls us back into that slow, glittering, 70’s sound. “Rain Again” comes at you with an edge off the bat, with some quick bongos and even quicker lyrics.
“Drive My Blues Away” is the most melancholic track we have yet to experience on this collection. The vocals seem very inspired, at times Springsteen, and at others Steven Tyler. The piano and whirring guitar solo make the whole thing feel like it could have been recorded in the 90s.
Thank goodness “Dollar For Dollar” brings the pace back up, as the subject matter isn’t entirely something to celebrate. However, the idea of rallying for the working man is something we can all relate to, especially after the trials the last year has presented us with. “Dancing At The Bar (The Quarantine Song)” starts out with glittering synth, and honestly we could see this track being performed alongside anything by ABBA. (Can you hear it?) “Candi” plays with dissonance before the first vocals hit, making it feel almost calmer as the lyrics set in. The whole album is rounded out quite well with “Biggest Fool,” which somehow blendsseveral of the aforementioned genres into one song. (Is that sitar? Are we in a 70’s music video? Where did that trumpet come from?)
One thing is for certain. Charlie Treat has chops. His ability to write lyrics that somehow perfectly complement each instrumental, creating new sounds that simultaneously pay homage to genre-spanning predecessors, is actually quite unique and very appreciated. The Comet should be approached as an adventure and a very appreciated leap into nostalgia.
On his new album Beautiful Machine, Matt Boroff ventures into unknown territory to examine our relationship with technology. While Boroff has been making music for years, this album finds him still evolving the way artists should. Boroff compares the tracks on his newest release to episodes of Black Mirror, and this comparison is an appropriate one. With dark and sometimes dreary tones running throughout, one can easily see how these tracks could end up as the soundtrack for the show.
The first track, “Beautiful Machine” is a perfect start, representing the dark vibes that the rest of the album gives off. As the title suggests, it also is a perfect way to get us thinking about our relationship with technology. “Trust” is the realization that we cannot depend on everything around us. While this track gives off some political vibes, it also can easily be related to what we see online. Another stand-out track is “Echo Chamber”, which speaks of the frustration of having your voice lost in the mix of millions of others. Boroff closes out with “Future Crimes”, a chaotic look at our online world, one that declares nobody is innocent.
In his return to performing, Glenn Morrow put together a group of talented musicians to form a band, Glenn Morrow’s Cry for Help. Out of that band comes a new album, 2. For anybody yearning for more rock and roll in their lives, 2 is the perfect place to turn. Filled to the brim with some answers to tough life predicaments and a way to move forward, the album is the perfect opportunity to just sit and be cozy while enjoying important stories and comforting melodies.
A major theme throughout the album that creates this heartwarming feeling is simply the idea of moving forward. Tracks like “Soul Hold” and “The Sun the Moon the Scars” are warm reminders that bad times don’t always have to stay that way. The latter song provides a jazz-esque sound, making it one of the most memorable tracks. There are also songs that fall more on the side of yearning for more, namely “Come Back”, “Watch it Burn” and “Other Side of the Dream”. The group provides layers of emotion that truly represent what life can be like, sorrow mixed with some fun, making it a sobering and comforting experience.
In an effort to work through the trauma of a psychologically abusive relationship, Caitlin Pasko offers Greenhouse: nine hauntingly pensive songs that aim to heal the self and move on from past wounds. A greenhouse is a structure that protects plant life from unfavourable external conditions, and in the same way Greenhouse provides a safe space for Pasko’s songs to grow and flourish into understanding and acceptance. The album is deeply involved with the concept of space– both in a metaphorical sense with its title, but also in terms of its sonic atmosphere. All the songs exist suspended in space, and silence works hand-in-hand with language to provide room for Pasko’s thoughts to form and evolve. “Ooo Happy”, a fleeting and chilling mid-album interlude has fourteen seconds of silence at the end before moving on. There are no words in this silence, and yet it speaks volumes. Much of Pasko’s gentle and breathy vocals on this album are delicately supported by sparse accompaniment, but each line carries so much weight. The accompaniment sometimes comes in the form of electronic atmospheres or decorative plucked strings, but most often in the form of ambient piano playing. Pasko’s compositions fully explore the tension between dynamics, tempo, and space, reminding one of Satie or Debussy. Her songs feel liberated from tempo, as her vocals and elegant piano melodies freely move like fantasias. In “Unwell”, the placement of each word and each chord is liberated from any sort of beat, but at the same time is deliberate and effective.
“Unwell” is also the first of a trio of songs on Greenhouse, manifested from Pasko’s walks through Brooklyn in 2017. During these walks she experienced dissociation– a kind of out-of-body sensation where she felt like she was floating above herself, viewing herself from a different point of view. Pasko channels this idea of multiple points of views in “Unwell”, “Mother”, and “Even God.” She crafts parallels in her lyrics between songs, such as when she talks about walking a neighbourhood that isn’t hers in “Unwell” and then sings “Today I remembered what it feels like to go walking on the sidewalk in the city that’s not my city” in “Mother”, the lyrics in both songs spilling over one another, feeling like a wandering thought. “Mother” plays with perspective as well, towards the end she sings “She’s my daughter, I’m her sister, she’s my sister, I’m her mother, she’s my mother” and delves into the idea of becoming a mother herself, with a second voice joining her in harmony when she talks about creative another life. “Even God” is written from the perspective of Pasko’s own mother and recalls Greenhouse’s inspiration: an abusive relationship. “Even God” is about being trauma-bonded to an abusive partner, with the principal lyric “Even God is selfish” playing with the idea that “nobody’s perfect.” About the song, Pasko says “‘You can sleep in / just make the bed’ is me saying, ‘I will put up with these bouts of cruelty, because I know you love me.’ It’s dark. I was sick. I was twisting the truth in order to cope with my reality, and as I started to believe my non-truth, I also turned against my friends who wanted to help me. If I believed them, then I’d have to admit to my own hell.”
So while “Even God” is about Pasko’s relationship with her partner, it’s also about how her situation affected her relationship with her friends, and even herself. Greenhouse documents the dissolution of relationships, romantic, platonic, and familial, all the while developing her ever-evolving connection to herself. “I Know I” uses two part harmony to represent Pasko’s child self and her inner mother, and how they communicate. The lower harmony briefly becomes the lead in the middle of the song, but soon enough returns to its original role, functioning as a metaphor for the conversations that take place between the mind and the heart. We hear this metaphorical harmony in “Mother” as well, when Pasko mulls over the possibility of motherhood for herself. At times, the album highlights relationships in the form of a dichotomy, such as in “Horrible Person.” The deeply reflective nature of the track contradicts its themes of self-abandonment and toxic enmeshment. Therefore, the “horrible person” is not only the abuser, but also the self as seen through someone else’s distorted, narcissistic mirror. Pasko composed the track a cappella, alone in her bed, in the dark, in an attempt to develop a reclamation of personal agency. It became the album’s centerpiece, and uses electronic sounds to create tension but also to depict an underwater chasm. Flickers of sound represent neon diatoms that dart around Pasko, eventually overtaking her right before the song ends in a deafening silence.
“Horrible Person” highlights how an abusive relationship can have reverberations in other parts of someone’s life, and when it’s over you have to remedy that. But a part of healing is confronting what happened and believing one’s own survival story. Pasko rewrites the narrative surrounding her experience in “Quiet Weather” and “To The Leaves.” In “Quiet Weather”, Pasko uses metaphors for herself and her partner to evoke imagery of a lake with still waters, showing her sense of lyrical craftsmanship. She attempts to exhume the past to allow herself to move on, singing “When I think of you I take a shovel to my chest and dig as deep as I can get.” “To The Leaves” is an artistic wonder that stitches together fragmented versions of the self in order to regain a sense of personal identity. With the words “It’s hard to believe that I was ever a peach in the leaves / It’s hard to believe that I was ever that version of me,” Pasko calls to attention how a survivor may gaslight herself into not believing her own experience. The piano gently plays haunting suspended chords that send a shiver down your spine.
The effective chords in “To The Leaves” create one of the scarce moments in the album that evokes emotion. Greenhouse is not emotional, it’s passive and composed. Yet it isn’t devoid of feeling. It’s a document; her words and experiences speak for themselves. In the moments where the piano chords deepen or electronic static takes over the space, they only emphasize the already implicit feelings. We hear this in the closing track, “Intimate Distance,” in which Pasko sings to herself as an act of atonement. The opening piano is unsentimental, but as the song progresses it deepens, at times feeling somber but at other times feeling powerful and majestic. “Intimate Distance” is the final step to moving on for Pasko, she clarifies and makes peace with the pain and love that lie beneath her trauma.
Greenhouse is intricate, intellectual, and complex. But so is the path to healing. By the time we get to “Intimate Distance”, we have seen Pasko face her damage from the past, engage with the possibilities of her future, and deal with all of the complications along the way. Her words are utterly beautiful, and packed with exquisite veiled meaning that would take many listens to fully grasp. From its title to its reserved demeanour that is subtly interwoven with emotion, Greenhouse is an understated work of art that needs to be listened to with willing ears and an open heart.
The LA indie-rock duo Mating Ritual has released The Bungalow, a quirky album made for the summer of 2020 that we never got. Finished on the day before mandatory quarantine hit, the album plays like an ironic look at a world that at one time, we thought was for certain. Vaguely inspired by the duo’s east-LA home, The Bungalow deepens Mating Rituals’ already cavernous pool of influences by incorporating elements of Bossa Nova and Disco. Previously known as Pacific Air, brothers Ryan Marshall Lawhon and Taylor Lawhon have already released three albums in three years, as per their ambitious and assured commitment to releasing five albums in five years. These released albums, How You Gonna Stop It? (2017), Light Myself On Fire (2018) and Hot Content (2019) have amassed much praise from The Consequence of Sound, Billboard, and the like, and The Bungalow is sure to follow in these footsteps.
“We wanted this one to be almost entirely light-hearted,” Ryan said about the album. To inaugurate this sentiment, The Bungalow offers the opening track, “Welcome To The Bungalow”, in which a jazzy backdrop radiates from your speakers, reminding one of easy-listening lounge music. Then, a slightly distorted voice begins to speak to you, to welcome you to “the bungalow.” He tells you that you’re “free to dance, if you’d like, or take a seat if that’s more your style.” His words are so specific, so vivid, and so personal. “There’s terry cloth robes in the bathroom if you need to wash the day off you.” It feels oddly unsettling… but certainly intriguing.
“Welcome To The Bungalow” functions as a swanky interlude that introduces the next three songs on The Bungalow. As we move through the album, we see two more of these interludes and two more sets of songs. The first trio is a dance group full of funky basslines and groovy melodies that entreat the dancers visiting the bungalow to get on their feet. The next track, simply called “The Bungalow”, furthers the all-embracing mood of the previous track, the words “come over to the bungalow, I’d like to show you around,” sung by a chorus of voices that conjure up images of a man leading a happy group of followers to the fabled bungalow, with people joining as they move along. Infused with arcade-style electronic sounds and vivacious energy, “The Bungalow” leads right into the next groove-filled song: “Voodoo.” This track begins with some Mother Mother-like vocals followed by a grand string flourish that could be taken right out of a song from the 70’s, but simultaneously manifests the present with alt-rock guitars in the chorus. “Elastic Summer” adopts a reggae beat and a retro melody that sounds like synthetic stars, but still sounds undeniably modern, straddling the line between past and present.
In another interlude we visit the street that the bungalow resides on– “The Third Steepest Street In America.” The jazzy drums and sax return, and the distorted voice continues to reveal odd and intimate details. It ends with an unresolved harmony and an upward moving melody to incite tension that diffuses into the next trio. “Unusual” initiates the three-track era of sweeping synths. It uses a drum machine and a thick atmosphere that surrounds a playfully disjunct chorus melody. The bridge is a colourful landscape with glittering synths and guitar. “King Of The Doves” may start with a clean drum beat, but soon enough some 80’s synth melodies enter the mix. The edge of the leading voice is coated with background vocals which are robotic, clear, and distorted at different times, creating a unique effect. After a guitar solo, a DEVO-esque bass pulses along, leading the track to its end. “Heart Don’t Work” is a slow tune with the disposition of a ballad, but it’s thickly layered with synths and Peter Gabriel-style drums that deviate from the classic piano ballad. As the lyrics say “I don’t know why my heart don’t work like it should,” it comes to attention that while this album may sound light-hearted, there are some deeper themes that are embedded in the lyrics to look out for.
We return once again to the lively bungalow scene in “My Postmate Is Here.” We hear the same eerily familiar voice talk, but there is also a second voice warbling in the background. It’s words are hard to make out, and they distract from what the first voice is saying, making for the perfect transition into the final trio of songs. These songs are harder to categorize, on one hand they share a sound with the album as a whole and elements of the other two trios, but on the other hand they are unique. “Ok” has the least amount of synths. For a moment it feels like it has an attitude with the edgy, swaggering guitar and bass, but when you listen to the words– “we’re all just trying to survive” and “I’m asking why,” it frames things in a more humbled light. The line “I wanna know the way I used to feel the sunlight on my face” is amusingly relevant; while it’s not about quarantine, those who have been isolated in their homes these past months can certainly identify with it. This track is sweeping in the sense that the nature of the vocals make one imagine him on his knees in an open field, pleading to the skies, but it’s missing the heavy synth component of the second trio. “Raining In Paradise” is similar to “King Of The Doves” with its cool synth melody, but it’s less atmospheric. This track features my favourite vocal performance– the melody plays with a higher range and has challenging leaps that are navigated expertly. Finally, “Moon Dust” is slow, soft, and more tender than any of the previous tracks. It feels familiar almost immediately with its soothing piano part and recognizable melody. A lunar synth interlude makes this track true to its name.
Although “Moon Dust” fits with the album overall, it shows how far the album moved from the opening track. It’s as though after your long day at the bungalow you’re beginning to grow tired and decide it’s time to go home. And of course, this cues a final interlude, titled “So Long, Los Guapos.” This interlude isn’t like the others. The distorted voice says “thanks for stopping by… until next time,” periodically throughout the minute and a half long track, but instead of the clear jazz sound, we get an atmospheric soundscape with guitar and some synth melodies. In some way, it feels like the perfect summation of all of the different tracks that are heard in The Bungalow.
The Bungalow embodies the carefree nature and gaiety of the summer we might have had if Covid hadn’t hit. But with its heavy use of nostalgic synths and hints at retro styles, perhaps it also functions as a projection of how society’s tendency to yearn for the past in the face of tension in the present. When you hear Peter Gabriel-esque drums or funky bass lines from the ’70s, you’re transported back to a time when the most recent worldwide pandemic was the Spanish Flu. No matter how you feel about the past or present, however, The Bungalow is a party where the hosts seem to know you better than you know yourself.
Make your way over to the third steepest street in America and stream Mating Ritual’s fourth album in four years. “We are proud to present our new album 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐰 out now! Make yourself a daiquiri, light some incense, and enjoy the ride” — I like how quirky these guys are.
Singer-songwriter Kandle (Kandle Osborne) found herself recording her latest release Stick Around and Find Out during lockdown. But you know what they say; extraordinary circumstances call for extraordinary music. Okay maybe that isn’t what they say, but in this case, it is true. The Canadian artist was focused on her vision for Stick Around and Find Out and the result is a great addition to her work. The varying sounds through the tracks fit together just right for a solid EP.
Osborne went through a journey to get where she is today, all while reclaiming her sound. According to her recent Instagram post, each song was recorded in a different city by a different producer and each was written in one day. On “Spell”, there is a story behind the catchy lyrics. It is about falling for someone and giving them all the power, like there is a spell controlling and pulling her back in. Continuing on this journey, Osborne finds herself helpless on “How Can You Hurt Me”. Not only are the lyrics relatable, but the music behind the lyrics can pull you in all by itself. The smooth production behind the tracks puts the songs on another level that will have you dancing along in your room. “Just To Bring You Back” is one of the more upbeat tracks in the collection. It sounds funky and somehow spooky, feeling like it would be the perfect music for a Halloween party on a show like Euphoria.
“Better Man” finds Osborne in control of her music after being tangled in recording contracts. Produced by Ben Simonetti (Zac Brown Band) and Liam O’Neill (Kings of Leon) in Nashville, the track is probably the most personal and freeing track after being stuck in such a difficult situation. Osborne said on the track, “I signed away my freedom. I wasn’t allowed to perform or release music or do anything, consequently, my career was put on hold for years. I was taken in the prime of my career and was stopped — my music was lost. Four years later, I started my battle for freedom.” Now that she can create songs like “Little Bad Things” and “Cemetery”, where her smokey vocals flow freely through her creative lyrics, she is thriving. Even with her final track, “Happy Pills”, she continues with clever lyrics and unique sound. The lyrics, “One to keep me calm / two to stop the pain / three to right my wrongs / and four…”, echo around the mind long after listening to the track.
After all that Osborne has been through, she is now at the top of her game. Her songs are cathartic, but at the same time seem to focus on empowerment and looking towards the future. This EP is only the beginning of her talents and she is bound to take off and become a big name in the industry. The charm shines through the music and her talent is undeniable, as she writes her own personal experiences instead of aiming for cookie-cutter radio tracks. Stream Stick Around and Find Out now.
Jono Dorr, a prolific songwriter and producer, has released his 6 part project, titled The Unexamined Life Part 1. Dorr has helped to launch and sustain the career of noteworthy artists such as Hayley Kiyoko, and has worked with Kehlani, The Neighbourhood, and Gnash. Hailing from Los Angeles, Dorr grew up playing bass and guitar in various bands, primarily exploring classic rock, blues, and funk. In high school and university, he began to develop his production skills. The opportunity to create electronic music at an early age allowed him to hone his ability to a finely sharpened point which he now uses to precisely pioneer a soulful revival within the modern pop landscape. The Unexamined Life Part 1 is an eclectic piece of work that is equal parts haunting, delicate, and devastating. Dorr explains, “The Unexamined Life Part 1 is about choosing pain over ignorance, freedom over obedience, and purpose over greed. Each song focuses on different moments in my life that compelled me to look inward for answers.” With each moment comes a wide range of emotions that make the EP accessible to anyone who is looking to relate to something.
Right away, “High Tide” introduces you to Dorr’s “soulful revival.” His use of gospel-like harmony is sparing and thoughtful. The dynamic interplay between his solo vocal lines and the harmonically supported lines creates a grand, dramatic overall sound, but the underlying dance beat invites the listener to get on their feet as well. Dorr’s vaguely Avicii-sounding voice glides through melodies that are incredibly singable, so don’t be surprised if you find yourself singing along.
“Envy The Man” briefly sounds like a ballad, with simple piano chords and a slow tempo, but soon understated elements come in– a beat, soft electronic chords– until the chorus hits with a mélange of surprising sounds that flow together in completely disjunct harmony. Bubbly notes, phasing chords, explicit beats, and resounding background voices that sound like part of the instrumental fabric themselves are a testament to Dorr’s exceptional production skills, making it the standout track on the EP.
“Quiet Footsteps” is slow, vengeful, and faintly menacing. It begins with some jazzy piano that struggles to ring out amidst a windswept background, while incessant cymbal attacks keep a slow but resolute beat. Dorr sings “I can’t escape,” and the words rebound, as though they themselves are trapped. Soon after, an extremely distorted guitar solo torments its way through the dark atmosphere. But then things change and the clouds part as the gospel harmonies of “High Tide” return. The hopeful sound of their unified voices are surprisingly uplifting compared to the rest of the song, adding an intriguing twist. As the music and then voices fade away and the song reaches its end, it feels somewhat removed– as though you’re floating away.
The picture of distortion and obscurity that “Quiet Footsteps” paints is focused into something that is infinitely more intimate in “Wanna Stay.” Raindrops and gentle acoustic guitar picking make you feel so much closer to Dorr and the aching tenderness that his words and music unveil. Again, Dorr’s experience with production shines through, with each electronic touch completely free of edge– fitting beautifully with the natural sound of the acoustic guitar. Soulful harmonies subtly support Dorr’s voice, especially on the word “stay,” the most important word in the track.
But the cozy enclosure that “Wanna Stay” seems to exist within is shattered by the next track, “07 Child.” You’re transported into a dark, dusky alleyway with a foreboding chill creeping its way into your body. Voices meander about in the style of Gregorian chant, a guitar relentlessly plays a static interval, solemn “mmm’s” embed themselves into the framework, and three unsettlingly tangible knocks ring out in an all-too-real fashion. When Dorr comes in, he sings “stay close to me child” on a melody that implies the eerie harmonic minor key–full of intent, yet daunting. The song continues on in this way right until the very end, slowing fading out and evading any sort of resolution.
The closing track, “Today”, plays off of the unnerving energy of the previous track, but in a more melancholic way. Haphazard voices meander around at the beginning and end, and while the beat is relaxed, the guitar is anxiously fast. When you reach the lines “I feel like a child standing at the edge of a cliff. He’s wondering why he wants to jump… maybe there’s some peace down there,” the words are fitting to the music, but that doesn’t make it any less distressing. While we’ve heard the soulful revival in most of the tracks so far, “Today” features it in the most modern way, with the harmonies on the words “feeling used” embodying an electro-gospel sound. The ultra-distorted guitar from “Quiet Footsteps” makes its return, but it’s somehow even more anguished than before. There’s a hint of a resolution, but the music fades away instead, until all that’s left is the wind… framing some of the lines of the song in a new light…
The Unexamined Life Part 1 somehow manages to pack darkness, sentimentality, storytelling, dance music, innovative soul, and adept production into a concise 6-track package. Jono Dorr is setting himself up to go far, so let this EP be your glimpse into the bright future that’s in store for his music.
