Titling the A-side from an upcoming 7″ single “Tambourine Light” couldn’t have been a mistake by psych-folk rockers Woods. Before lead singer Jeremy Earl’s voice can begin, his shimmering guitar riff engenders comparisons to The Byrds’ epochal cover of “Mr. Tambourine Man”. It’s not just Earl and his guitar tone; everyone in Woods manages to summon the spirit of the folk-rock originators. Kevin Morby’s barely there, but anchoring bass doesn’t fall far from the Chris Hillman tree. The way Aaron Neveu plays his lilting drummer pattern, Michael Clarke may as well be manning the kit. Even Woods’ soft harmonizing exists on the same spectrum as the Roger McGuinn-led group In the “jingle-jangle morning” it’s clear who Woods are following.
There are digressions though. Earl’s voice is best described as “quietly aching,” whereas McGuinn’s is routinely labelled “nasal” or “drawling.” And while that’s a miniscule difference, it’s an important one. McGuinn sometimes sounded disappointed singing through those nostrils, but you got the sense he’d move past it. With Earl, it’s harder to tell. Sure he’s looking up “past the Sun,” but at what and for how long? “Forever” is a word he let’s go of as the band gels into a restful groove. That said it’s an eternity where the bliss of it being “forever morning” can easily be misconstrued as “forever mourning.” In that period of time he’s pushed creeping shadows away and has felt all sorts of challenges come up “against him.” Hearing Earl describe these struggles you realize if anyone’s ready “for to fade,” it’s him.
(“Tambourine Light” will be out July 8 on Captured Tracks and is backed by “Tomorrow’s Only Yesterday”. You can hear the track here now.)
There’s little in the music of “Get By Get High” to support such a “psychedelic” title. On the opening track from Minneapolis folk-artist Feathered Rhino’s self-titled EP, an unnervingly ragged guitar figure emerges and lingers throughout. It doesn’t sound: detuned, out of tune, or off key, no it sounds like it’s on its last leg, like it will collapse at any second. If there’s any sort of psychedelic, it’s hidden in that haunting declaration.
And considering the weight Joseph Wilcox is putting on an already rickety frame, you’d forgive it for collapsing. Immediately Wilcox is croaking “by myself,” as though he’s been lonely for so long now all he can do is genuflect on his own isolation. What started as an attempt to “find my way” has turned into a slog to find any sort of connection. You can hear the desperation in that aforementioned croak, which winds through the rafters of an abandoned barn. At some point it gives up altogether and drifts off to sleep, where an unnamed affection’s “eyes are in my dreams at night,” as Wilcox puts it. Hidden in that haunting declaration is a tinge of psychedelia. Nothing lysergic or mind-expanding, instead the sort where you’re transfixed on a singular object. Time slows to a halt. Heavy-breathing kicks-in. The “high” shifts from physical to spiritual.
Feathered Rhino is available now on Bandcamp, courtesy of local label Petrified Records.