The Fruit Bats are yet another “group” that is really just one guy, in this case, Eric D. Johnson. This album, “their” 6th, offers up twangy folkish music. Some of the songs are pretty good, but I find Johnson’s whiny voice terminally annoying. Maybe some of y’all with more enlightened ears will feel differently.
This is one of those very special albums that reminds me of why I embarked on this Pickathon project. The festival website tells the story:
In 2009, when she was a student at a small liberal arts college in New England, Amelia Meath heard a gorgeous sound coming from the living room of her dormitory. She raced downstairs to find Molly Erin Sarlé singing “Dog Song,” a tender tune about lust, longing, and responsibility. Meath demanded that Sarlé, nearly a stranger, teach her the tune, which she, in turn, taught to a friend, Alexandra Sauser-Monnig. The next time the pair saw Sarlé, they sang “Dog Song” to, and then with, her. And so, Mountain Man was born.
The three weren’t quite yet friends when they performed, recorded, and even toured for the first time, but they each felt the chemistry within their combined voices, a sense of artistic kismet and kinship that some spend lifetimes seeking. Acclaim came quickly, with their debut—2010’s Made the Harbor, humbly recorded on rickety equipment in an abandoned factory—earning praise from the New York Times and the Guardian and prompting big tours.
But before they could return to the studio, post-collegiate life intervened: Meath moved to Durham, North Carolina and eventually started Sylvan Esso. Sarlé headed for a Zen center along the California coast. Sauser-Monnig returned to Minnesota, then decamped to a farm in the North Carolina mountains. They kept in touch with near-weekly conference calls, growing as friends while taking a break from making music together. When Sarlé was ready to leave California, though, Meath and Sauser-Monnig implored her to return east, saying they would even fly to her and drive with her across the country, so long as she settled in North Carolina.
Together as friends, not as a band, the three made an all-American road trip. They camped beneath endless desert skies and partied with true New Orleans abandon. Finally home, they focused first on their relationship, singing together only as an extension of this personal reunion.
At last, they tested their again-blossoming friendship onstage in the summer of 2017 at the Eaux Claires music festival. On a tiny, cabin-like stage tucked into a forest, where audiences of a few hundred are considered big, Mountain Man captivated several thousand, with people climbing trees and fighting through stinging nettles to catch a glimpse or whisper. Hanging on every note and between-song quip, the crowd stood transfixed and silent—a festival miracle, there in the woods. And so, Mountain Man was reborn.
Magic Ship is their second album, recorded eight years after the first. The gorgeous three part harmonies weave through 14 songs than range from folky to funny. "Unplugged" doesn't begin to describe the intimate, minimalist vibe.
Caamp is an acoustic folk trio from Ohio. Their website sez:
Started by boyhood friends Evan Westfall and Taylor Meier, CAAMP came to life in Athens, Ohio. Taylor began penning and playing original songs at coffee shops around Athens in 2013. Evan moved down a couple of years later and together in a hazy attic, enjoying light beers, they would find the heartfelt sound that became CAAMP. Since independently releasing their self-titled first record in 2016, they have climbed Spotify charts, headlined the US, purchased denim jackets and added a bass-playing buddy, Matt Vinson, who also enjoys light beers and denim. With the recent release of their sophomore album, the Ohioan trio has high hopes and no reservations.
The banjo gives Caamp a countryish feel, but it's the twang-free variety from the midwest rust belt (Michigan, Indiana, Ohio). At the high end of his emotional palate, Taylor Meier even has a growl reminiscent of Michigander Bob Seger. But unlike Seger, he can turn it off. The sounds have a restless troubadour vibe.
on the Sam-O-Meter. A fine debut album that shows lots of potential.
The songs on this album were written when group leader Mike Scheidt was in hospital for a near-fatal illness.
Pickathon sez:
Epic, crushing, and heavy beyond words, YOB has achieved legendary status in recent years due to their unmatched aesthetic and incredible body of work. Formed in 1996 in Eugene, Oregon under the leadership of doom metal mastermind Mike Scheidt on guitars and vocals, the group initially released a three song demo tape in 2000 that garnered them international attention. Drawing comparisons to groups like Neurosis, Sleep and Electric Wizard, YOB succeeded in developing modern sounding doom metal that hearkened back to the classics.
I don't listen to enough doom metal to off a comparative rating, but ORH is certainly powerful.
Lambchop - This (Is What I Wanted To Tell You) (2019)
Here are a couple of albums that just didn't speak to me. YMMV. They resemble each other in the laconic vocals, downbeat melodies and artsy, oh so literate lyrics.
Damien Jurado inhabits the indie folk space. His songs are wordy character studies that might read better than they sing. Highlight for me was the name checks of Percy Faith and Allan Sherman. Otherwise? "Over Rainbows And Rainier"?? Please.
Lambchop has been around since 1986. Their best known early albums offered countryish chamber pop. Now after 14 albums, front man Kurt Wagner has gone all in for digital soundscapes and heavily Auto-Tuned vocals. All of the songs on this album blend monotonously together due to the processing except the last, "Flower". The closer is so moving in its analog simplicity that I wished he had done the whole record in that style. Oh, well. Maybe next time.
I recall reading that Pickathon lost money last year, so perhaps it's no surprise that the festival is trying to increase its mainstream appeal. Hey, we all gotta eat. But here are two more acts that hold more appeal for the coffeehouse cognoscenti than for musical explorers. The only challenge either of these records presented to me was to stay awake, but then the caffeine helps with that.
Laura Veirs - The Lookout (2018)
AMG sez:
Taking a cue from her excellent 2016 collaboration with Neko Case and k.d. lang, The Lookout, Laura Veirs' tenth studio long-player is a sonically breezy yet lyrically bold amalgam of imagery-rich Pacific Northwest Americana, reverb-laden indie pop, and intimate electronics-tinged folk. It's also her most compelling set of material to date, effectively pairing her understated vocals with arrangements that are as pillowy and warm as they are spilling over with interesting ideas. Too often tagged with words like dependable and steadfast, Veirs may not be the most commanding presence, but she more than held her own against the sizable personalities of Case and lang, and she imbues The Lookout with that same quiet confidence, deftly weaving richly detailed, forward-thinking confections out of confessional singer/songwriter tropes.
Indeed she is not.
Julia Jacklin - Crushing (2019)
Pickathon sez:
The second full-length album from Australian singer/songwriter Julia Jacklin, Crushing embodies every possible meaning of its title word. It’s an album formed from sheer intensity of feeling, an in-the-moment narrative of heartbreak and infatuation. And with her storytelling centered on bodies and crossed boundaries and smothering closeness, Crushing reveals how our physical experience of the world shapes and sometimes distorts our inner lives.
Sample lyric
Yeah I'll say it 'till he understands
You can love somebody without using your hands.