Dishes by Michigan musician Nathan K. is not a new album. Apparently, after we wrote about fellow Michigander Small Houses a few months back, a reader (who I assume is from Michigan) was compelled to explore the state’s folk scene further and hence re-discovered Nathan K. They were kind enough to write to us and suggest we give his new album a listen.
Nathan K. is self-classified (probably with tongue in cheek) as anti-freak folk, but the important thing for you to know is that he is a songwriter. Here he shows that it doesn’t really matter how lo-fi the production is if the writing and execution is right. The songs come of sort of like a series of diary entries, a stream of consciousness that trickles into all sorts of different areas, wandering around the variations of folk music at will.
The album is a fine collection of songs as it is, but it is impossible to ignore the story of the recording process. The description from Bandcamp reads:
“In the middle of a tour, I had to come home early to be with my grandfather who was dying, and at his request, and I sang and played guitar, violin, and banjo for him during the last few weeks of his life. During the nights, when I couldn’t sleep (I slept at the hospital), I recorded on a 4-track recorder to pass the time in the waiting room.”
A second listen with this in mind causes the album to expand and blossom, what at first appeared throw-away words and lines with a pleasing cadence become something incredibly personal, almost ultimately so. The refrain in ‘Ghosts’ is a perfect example of this. First time around it was a nice, poetic phrase, but now it takes on a new quality; a curious mix of sadness and joy, haunting in the sense that it lingers but not completely morose or scary. Its more a nostalgic and poignant amalgamation of fondness and love and regret, something crushing yet life affirming.
And this is what you take away from the record upon understanding how it came into being – a sense of joy. Yes there is sympathy and sadness, but there something else that overides all of this. Knowledge of a life well lived, a pride and appreciation of a person who is responsible for your very being. A line in ‘For Your Own Good’ captures this better than I ever could:
“I was a kid last time I really felt that // the world was a beautiful place // and I guess it’s a beautiful place, but it’s hard to tell.”
You can buy the album on the Nathan K. Bandcamp, or download it on a pay-what-you-can basis.