According to Wikipedia, Americana is “an amalgam of American folk music formed by the confluence of the shared and varied traditions that make up the musical ethos of the United States”. It might then be fair to expect Post-Americana to be a bit further down river from said confluence, although quite how far is up for debate. ‘Dead Dog Eyes’ opens with an off-kilter sound, folk music amped up with psychedelica and blues to reach something at once celebratory and weird. “They came in through the front door,” he sings. “They came in with dying dog eyes”, ensuring the strange vibe extends to their lyrics. ‘Memorial Day Crossroad Blues’ is slower and folkier still, the arrangements serving up a dose of warm dusty nostalgia through which rises the repeated and rather desperate refrain of “at the crossroads!” ‘The River Because’ is skippy and jovial and odd, like the words of a mountain hermit so long removed from civilisation that they no longer care about how they look in the eyes of others.

“I will reason with your reason
I will eat my slice of cake
but you will find me at my best
when we’re swimming
in the river because
when we’re swimming
in the river because”

Without wishing to exaggerate the oddness, the peculiar-but-cordial analogy holds through much of the record. Should ‘Please Excuse Me (4th Ave Blues)’ be a traditional Americana song, it would most likely have existed as embittered and tortured and sad, a man-tones-down-masculinity-to-reinforce-it kind of deal where the narrator baths in his heroic melodrama. But here, while the thoughts are sincere and undoubtedly wistful, the lyrics circumnavigate macho schmaltz with offbeat deftness (just listen to the opening: “and please excuse me / for never for never for never for never / writing you that letter”). ‘Leave Me Be’ shows a quiet and removed side, while ‘Rendezvous On North Rodger Road’ is their travelling number, a twee pop version of a communal folk song which incites an American dream of a different variety, where simple pleasures are all you need. This is built upon with ‘Life is a Book’, a song which feels like a neat summation of Sawtooth’s ideology:

“You can wear my glasses if you want
But you will never see just as me
You can watch these words flow like slow molasses
and hopefully you’ll catch them as I speak
so untie your shoes sit down and get real high
cause you’ve been dancing in the rain
tryin to feel something other than time
and your singing with the stereo
feelin bigger
bigger than time”

The blues in ‘Florida Blues’ are literal, a moody wordless agitation, the sort of song that goes looking for its enemies in poorly-lit dive bars too late at night, while ‘I Don’t Need No One To Win My Freedom’ sees the return of upbeat, VanGaalenian folk. ‘Empathy/Apathy’ is a slow-burning imploration that you choose feeling and courage over indifference and excuses. “Don’t let your empathy / turn into apathy,” he sings, again resisting the cool cynicism of many Americana heroes. “Don’t let yourself be so sold / well we’ve all been there before.” ‘Kindness Comes’ emerges from this crescendo,  level and sombre, the sober next-day insistence that everything said was true, that these words mean more than a good time.

“Kindness comes so easily
from the ones who challenge existence”

Maybe Post-Americana isn’t further down the Americana stream at all, but rather sailing along a similar-but-strange river in some parallel universe, where folk tropes are easily broken or else don’t even exist. You can buy it now from the Sawtooth Bandcamp page.

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Since the release, lead Olivia Rose rounded up a bunch of “strong and amazing” people from in and around her home town and recorded what she describes as “a short film/intense experience and ultimate release” to accompany to of the tracks. Directed by Rose, the video was filmed and edited by Kuwilileni Williams-Hauwanga, Brooke Bolding and Justis Biggart and is as intense as anything on the record. I’d normally put the music at the end but I don’t want my words to lessen or alter the impact of the video so please watch it first. We recommend using the largest screen you own with headphones. Oh, and it’s probably not a good idea to watch it at work.

The video opens with the track ‘Running’ and sees seven apparently blood-soaked individuals emerging from some sort of forest scene to run down a poorly lit road at night. Whether they are running towards something or away from it is unclear, although they are backlit by the headlights of a car. “Put your faith in your eyes” Rose tells us as the seven continue their forward motion, some looking determined, some scared, some in the midst of an unspecified frenzy. The footage becomes jumpy, cutting between increasingly shaky shots until a strange interlude is superimposed over the video, showing the seven performing a variety of odd and potentially ritualised actions to unknown ends. The scene is imbued with a meaning that doesn’t quite register and before your mind gets a chance to catch up they’re off running again. “Put your faith in your eyes. Come on and keep running”.

‘Running’ ends with a series close-up face-shots, each of the seven in turn, before they line up in a row at the side of the road and the video cuts to black. The title track emerges from the plaintive note and the seven re-emerge, in daylight, standing in a woodland clearing. They are in the same order but their clothes are clean white. Behind stands a tall figure cloaked in red holding what appears to be a bucket. “It’s been a lot of standing up” sings Rose. “Hey I’ve been down before”. More close-ups ensue, revealing small details which suggest each person is having a slightly different experience. You might see terror, tenacity, a sort of blankness. Vague expectancy or pre-tornadic calm. Whatever you read into the faces, they are united in their paradoxical (or not) aura of vulnerability and strength.

As the song reaches it’s climax (what we previously called “a rhythmic frenzy… a demonic wail… a moment unexpected in its ferocity”) the seven return to their row and the figure clad in red pours what appears to be blood over their heads from a vulvic container, one by one. The fluid gets into their teeth and eyes and hair, and they wear the faces of people stranded in some remote trauma, staring evenly at the camera, daring it to tell their story. It’s not clear if the seven chose to be there.

“It’s just a lot of standing up.
Hey I’ve been down, before

My need to please.
My need”

The video ends with the seven running once more, before they enter a body of water and submerge themselves, still together.

My overwhelming emotion, in relation to the video and SEVEN as a whole, is a special kind of dread. A dread so large it’s all consuming and cathartic, something you can submit to, fall through, have poured over your head and into your ears. It’s a dread that is older than me, or you, or anyone we know, an atavistic, semi-religious thing which operates below the conscious mind. It’s something to do with living and dying and things outside of our control. It’s something to do with other people. It might be the reason we’re here.

I can go through my life pretty much ignorant of that feeling. It’s not something that comes up in day-to-day living unless an artist decides to launch it at me. When listening, the red clad figure is Oh, Rose and I can take the contents of the bucket in small, controllable doses that leave me feeling elated and kind of shaky. But here’s the thing. That’s not true for everyone. What if the red clad figure is life? What happens then? Well, I don’t know. I can’t know. I have no right to even guess. But this video knows. Watch it several times, and let it speak to you.

You can buy SEVEN now from the Oh, Rose Bandcamp page. They were also part of our Quiet, Constant Friends project (which you can read about here), and you can buy that here.

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We’ve been big fans of Oh, Rose for quite a while now, feelings which peaked over their latest album SEVEN, an album of quite spectacular ferocity and strangeness. As we wrote in July:

“The vocals have the quality of an exorcism, like the unnatural utterings of a twelve year old as some jaded man of faith flicks holy water at her forehead. Here Rose sounds quite literally possessed, as if channelling something old and malevolent and playful in a mean, spiteful way”

Sounds cool, right? So cool in fact that we asked Oh, Rose to be a part of our project. Accepting the offer, they teamed up with fellow Olympians Sawtooth to make ‘TV’, a song which first appeared on Because Mountains Are There To Climb, an excellent compilation from the ever-reliable Fox Food Records.

How does this tie in with the books theme, I hear you shout! Well, let’s just say it’s down to your own interpretation. I think there’s an interesting discussion ongoing on books vs. TV/internet, and the slow deliberation of reading vs. instant gratification, and even the most square-eyed among you would admit that having something so easy to digest being beamed out of the various screens in your home might have a tiny influence on your reading habits. But anyway, buy the compilation, listen to the song and stare in a catatonic daze at the artwork below.

You can pre-order Quiet, Constant Friends now on our Bandcamp page, and all profits go straight to Worldreader! Why not grab a tape, complete with super-limited edition art prints?

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Fudesco provides the instrumentation, his gentle acoustics like the slowest Cave Singers songs stripped back further, while Webber’s delivers her most hushed vocals to date. ‘Wild Hearts’ is the perfect introduction, Webber’s warble rippling over warm finger-picked guitars to produce something lovely yet tinged with sadness, like all beautiful things tend to be.

You can stream the album now via Exclaim! and buy it from the Kodiak Deathbeds Bandcamp page.

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After a quick count-in ‘Lottery’ dives headlong into things, Rose detailing her plans for winning a lot of money, backed with just frantic enough instrumentation. The track sets out the vibe on the album, an indie rock energy laced with something sinister, as if something dark is using Rose’s lyrics to communicate its message. “If I won the lottery…” she sings, following it up with a variety of strange scenarios: “I’d buy you a house with no doors and no windows”, ” I’d buy you a sports car with no brakes”, and, perhaps tellingly, “I’d buy back the things that I sold to the devil”. This last statement forms a desperate refrain which sets up the noisy finale, where the guitars pick up and percussion gathers intensity and several voices shout at once “Cause I’m a poor poor sport, playin’ games with love”.

‘Run’ is slow and sultry, showing off Rose’s trademark warbled vocals, sometimes deceptively slow and dreamy (with added oooohs) and sometimes energetic and spiky, like a combination of Angel Olsen, Mitski and Lemolo. The halfway mark sees the track burst into life, with the instrumentation clattering into some kind of tempo as Rose’s vocals become manic and unpredictable. And if ‘Run’ was a command then ‘Running’ is the action, lean and wiry guitars lead proceedings while a lo-fi buzz envelopes everything, Rose’s words cutting through like shards of glass. The vocals have the quality of an exorcism, like the unnatural utterings of a twelve year old as some jaded man of faith flicks holy water at her forehead. Here Rose sounds quite literally possessed, as if channelling something old and malevolent and playful in a mean, spiteful way. “Put your faith in your eyes,” it urges. “Keep running” it demands.

The title track has a slower build which acts as the quiet before the storm, the hush that descends over a room after something traumatic has occurred, the lull when those present are waiting to see if it will return. And return it does, the track lurching into a rhythmic frenzy, culminating in a demonic wail at the halfway mark, a moment unexpected in its ferocity even after previous songs. It’s as if the entity is no longer speaking via her mouth but climbing right through it. “My need to please”, it howls, “my need”, and you can just imagine the audience scattering as something hideous emerges on the stage. The track finishes with the heavy rumble of reverb like the electric vibration of recent violence in the air, slowly dissipating into the restrained ‘Only’, which opens with a quiet synth line that sounds like disembodied breath across the top of glass bottles. The shuffling drums and forlorn lyrics have a lonely feel, as if originating from the bottom of the ocean, Rose’s words slinking and sliding like pale invertebrates against the cetacean squeaks of the background vocals. ‘Winter’ continues the introspective quiet, the underwater scene growing darker until nothing can be seen, as if all energy was consumed and the entity burnt out during the earlier disturbance. It is only around the four minute mark where a crescendo is reached again, life flooding back into the depleted channels, and ‘Flu’ ends with the intensity gathering once more, itself building up to a climax of repeated bird-like shrieks, as if the thing is rising from its hibernation or emerging from its cocoon, freshly metamorphosed with a pair of dazzling wings.

Rose’s vocals alternate between dreamy oohs and idiosyncratic warbles, guttural growls and unnatural wails. Yelps and yells and cries and squeals… I’m not sure I can think of another singer who has such a diversity of delivery styles. Its quite incredible to hear and I can only imagine how her vocal chords must feel after a show. Probably barely any better than if some ghostly creature did clamber out of her throat.

You can buy Seven now via the Oh, Rose Bandcamp page.

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Williams has also released another collection on her Bandcamp page, this time a few alternative mixes of songs from her album, The Bluebird of Happiness (which you can also get from Saint Marie Records).

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