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The Dry Spells :: "Shruti"From The Dry Spells (self-released; 2007)
One of my favorite indie-folk bands, Vetiver, has been spending a lot of time lately trying to sound like country-era Grateful Dead onstage and re-recording obscure Americana songs in the studio. At a recent concert they were getting so deep into country covers and Dead-esque jams that I was actually hoping that they'd just rip out Workingman's Dead (1970) instead of blue-balling me with second-rate attempts. The opening band, the Dry Spells, while embracing their own sense of '60s and '70s California country-rock, at least seemed to be equally interested in proving that folk music doesn't need to be absurdly steeped in the traditions of yester-year.
This bi-coastal (Brooklyn and San Francisco) female foursome's sound owes more than a little bit to that mystical acoustic lady, Fern Knight, but there's a fat dose of Fleetwood Mac buried in there, which makes for energetic, even rocking, music. Don't let the Enya-inspired vocals at the beginning of "Shruti" scare you into a new-age acid flashback. Trust me, keep listening: it eventually unfolds into an irresistable jam, mapping spacey textures -- via droning keyboards and drawn-out multi-part harmonies -- against an ascending guitar riff. Another good sign: the astronaut-rock leanings of the guitar's vicious sustains and ethereal delays hint at a band that'll be mashing up their on-point folk harmonies with head-bobbing rollick in the future. The trite, but harmless, lyrical conceits of by-the-numbers freak-folk remain. You know, all that talk of lovers falling into the sea and hands reaching out of trees into the soul of mother earth, but the music, at least, is looking for new directions in an aged genre. This ain't just freak-whatever, it's folklore with edge.
Andre Perry :: 18 August 2007 |
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