Where have all the songbirds gone? Magicals musings in open mics at local coffee shops. Hanger-ons taking every bit of it in quiet contemplation. Filiah remembers. She might be your next brew time sweetheart, a pure voice to snuggle a warm drink between your hands and take a moment for yourself. The 7 layered poetry of For Someone beckons you to pause and be present. You can have it both ways. You can lose yourself in the beauty of interesting melodies and sharp execution, or you can dig in to this prose and resurrect the musical cinema.
Her vocal prowess is undeniable. Filiah is captivating. She can deliver otherworldly quiet hazy textures. An uncontrollable quantized tremolo defends the barrier that breaks a whisper. The richness of her voice lends it to cut into the music despite such gentle release. For this, and for the minimalist vibey arrangements, she recalls haunting works by Feist and softer releases from Billie Eilish. An indie sensibility, though, is at the forefront. She steers away from the lure of modern indie pop, preferring the sanctity of atmospheric art folk and it’s more experimental consolidations.
True to herself, the complete collection of For Someone provides 7 unique musical portraits. All clearly Filiah, but each occupying variation in stroke and palette. Filiah can work her way around these 12 notes like one thousands colors from the rainbow. She brings a proficient understanding of melodic concepts to the rescue of folk pop.
Enjoy In Between, now on our Emerging Folk playlist.
Get lost in the ethereal folk-gaze of Nashville based slow jammers Taxiway. Their new album Absence is a sobering post-rager early morning soundtrack as you collect what’s left and drive into the creeping horizon.
There’s clear evidence of native influence, with a fresh affinity for all things indie. Their southern lineage is in contempt of mainstream country’s corporate grip, it’s more faithful to Townes Van Zandt and his posse of misfit troubadours, uncovering the dark side of a songmans journey and the plight of an artist. Songs like Four Star fit right into that tradition of painful revelation. In the same manner it belongs with the sad boy Neo-folk of artists like Gregory Alan Isakov, and how we yearn for some beauty dressed in blue.
Their single Prime Meridien, brought into the indie world, hangs nicely alongside the likes of Ryan Adams, Wilco, and Dawes, but also stands solitaire in its complete affect. The band cites minimalistic vibesters The XX and post-rock revivalists The National as influences. A little of all of this seeps into their rustic palette.
Taxiway keeps it consistent by sticking to their patent arrangement of electric guitar, bass, drums, and pedal steel. In essence, they’ve discovered their sound. Its the vintage pedal steel appearing throughout Absence that permeates the dreamy atmosphere. They let it lay in long expansive doses, letting the underlayer ring harmonious overtones like an intoxicating sonic blanket.
Singer Mike Aurand’s penchant quiver shakes with the hurt and fragility of someone whose been around a time or two. He’s believable, and he’s got the lyrical prowess to articulate a lifetime of letdown. He paints these novellas in fresh updated references to a history of almost. Front to back, Absence grabs you and calls you to see her home. Along with bassist Joseph Jared and drummer Caila Singleton, Taxiway provides a proper album to a generation hooked on singles. Whether your digging for the last song of the day or in need of an alternative whiskey companion, Taxiway drives it home.
Enjoy Prime Meridian and Four Star Hotel now on our Emerging Folk playlist.
He calls himself A Starving Viking. His new garage bred release The Milksop EP is a rare dose of feel-good lofi psych-folk. His single The Hither Shore is the best damn back room stoner jam we’ve heard in years. There’s a feeling of community, odd considering it was created by only the Viking himself. It’s as if he’s cloned imaginary friends to celebrate these vibey riffs. It’s here to get you to your next surf spot, calling you to an unexpected adventure with a railroad beat. This ones for the home crew. The Hackeysack brethren who suffered through secondary school and came out caring less.
The songwriter reimagines the plight of the Viking, their allegiance to their traveling family, and the simplicity in the chaos of their journey. A life always searching never stops living. “Light a candle of war and we’ll find the Hither Shore.”
Fans of Jose Gonzalez and Lord Huron will get hooked on these catchy desert vamp vibes. It embraces a combination of tribal rhythms and outlaw sensibility dressed in a dreamy arrangement. You’ll get a campfire feel akin to an impromptu summer escape, the respite for A Starving Viking.
Hear the Hither Shore now on our Emerging Folk playlist.
Norwegians Jone Lindman and Andreas Grannes have a new collaborative release, Letters. The passionate, upbeat folk rock anthem is dipped in nostalgic melancholy. It honors a generation grappling with new electric futures, earnest to reconnect with life’s former simplicities. Letters represents a new awakening. Brought on by the last couple years daunting restrictions, and now a war that’s unusually close to home. Lindman and Grannes acknowledge our futility, and how even the smallest elements in nature hold more power in the weight of the universe. “In hindsight I know now some people come and go, they fade, they wash away. Do you remember the forceful storm? The whispers from the void, my friend, my nothingness.”
Buried in bright glowing acoustic guitars, the music is light and flowing as emotive chords wash over you. Lindman and Grannes know how to work their way around a melody, and the singers employ variations known to the masters. Stylistically there’s evidence of modern Springsteen, acoustic rock hits by The War On Drugs, and a subtle 90s sensibility in the vein of Oasis and The Goo Goo Dolls. Like Springsteen, Letters is epic, and lets a driving snare roll this musical sprint forward, constantly pushing the band through the songs changes as everyone tries to keep up with the singers ferocity. It stays true to the songs intention, as life moves so fast that you might not realize to embrace it until it has already passed you by.
On Letters, the singers are apologetic, knowing they’ve let some of the good slip by. “Maybe in another life, I can make amends for loss time.” We better hope so.
Until then, send them Letters, now on our Emerging Folk playlist.
The Wild Is Calling 