Each falling leaf is a reminder of one more thing you didn't get to over the past few months—friends you didn't call, letters you didn't write, projects uncompleted, road trips forgotten, personal oaths unfulfilled. When those ol' fall blues kick in, do yourself a favor—toss the rake and those ratty old brown gloves down onto that massive pile of leaves in the back yard and head on in to your stereo. Put some water on to boil, have a gooey, sticky cup of hot chocolate and throw on some local music. Here's one that makes for a perfect pre-winter warm-up ...
Twin Cities-based roots outfit Big Ditch Road return with another dark, brittle collection of pedal steel-and-heartbreak-augmented Americana on the appropriately titled Suicide Note Reader's Companion. The album rides like the grim soundtrack to an indie film populated with quirky, tragedy-laden characters who continue to search for answers long after their questions have ceased to matter.
“How Are You” finds BDR (Brian O' Neil on pedal steel, Ted Held on lead guitar, Tim Baumgart on drums, Amy Bukstein on bass and Wald on guitar and vocals) blending their crackling, heartbreak-beat grooves into a perfect melange of loneliness and loss. “St. Lonesome” eases in on trembling keyboard notes and bleary guitars, Wald—the high priest of heartbreak—lamenting anything and everything with such tired conviction that you're nearly driven to the couch to dive under a warm blanket and hug a pillow until you weep yourself to sleep.
“Saturday,” the album's one slightly upbeat song (the tempo rocks but the sentiments are the same), proves these kids could play the hell out of a country barn dance if they were of a mind to, but would rather spend the bulk of their creative force dissecting the inevitable betrayal, sorrow and loneliness to come after the initial exuberance of a moody, mismatched love affair. “Texas” is the perfect road trip tune—insistent drums, high lonesome axe-work, hypnotic bass and Wald crooning sweet nothings like he's got everything to lose and nothing to prove.
A sublime, understated batch of absolutely heartbreaking local honky-tonk from a quintet whose keen understanding of what it means to be really and truly down surely has them on their way up. Highly recommended. Check ‘em out at EclectoneRecords.com .
That's it for me this week, ya yahoos. Tune in again, same beer time, same beer place, for more of the same. Until we meet again—make yer own damn news.
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