Aaron Semer's Cape Disappointment

My latest Vinyl Anachronist music review is now live at Part-Time Audiophile. You can read it here.

Daniel Norgren's Wooh Dang

Daniel Norgren's new LP Wooh Dang is a dry, lonely desert of an album, spare and beautiful and dusty around the edges. It reminds me of a sub-genre that came on strong about a decade ago, exemplified by bands like Castanets and early Calexico, music for hip people who happen to live in the middle of nowhere. This is sad music filled with empty yet meaningful spaces. This is the sort of music you'd imagine being spilled out of bars in Marfa or Arcosanti. It takes its time to unfold, but it also keeps things simple and honest along the way.

So here's the crazy thing. Norgren is from Sweden. He went out into the woods near his home to write these songs, and then he recorded them in an old farmhouse. In Sweden. I wonder how this type of music, so obviously influenced by what we call roots music, plays in Sweden, but I also happen to know that Swedish bands are so skilled at emulating American forms of music (Robyn, Serena-Maneesh) that they blend right in. Daniel Norgren blends right in. He could hop up on a SXSW stage and start playing and no one would be the wiser. Is this a good thing? I'm going to say that it is, and for one reason--Wooh Dang is charming, fun and otherwise totally legit.

Norgren has even mastered that thin, folksy way of singing that's so particular to Americana--I call it the Levon Helm School of Vocals. Perhaps that's why he seems so genuine. He sings in English, and he even does an excellent approximation of the "country" accent needed to give these types of songs heft and authenticity. I should probably stop obsessing about his nationality, but I'm discussing it because it reveals an underlying motivation--mainly, his love and dedication to folk and Americana and maybe a dash of psychedelic '60s rock. There's probably a rich, nuanced feeling that comes from living in one part of the world and having the music from another part of the world speak so directly to your heart, and that kind of love is obvious in every song.

My only real complaint with Wooh Dang is its brevity. Norgren takes his time with his songs and performs them in an unhurried manner, with lots of room for slow builds and quiet interludes. That makes the album fly by quickly before you've had a chance to really absorb the ideas. On the other hand I'd rather have that than an album with filler that seems to go on forever without a purpose for doing so. Norgren's new album is short, sweet and kind, and the LP pressing is quiet as can be. I don't need much more than this to make me happy, or at least beautifully sad.

The Ebony Hillbillies' 5 Miles From Town

After just a few seconds of listening to 5 Miles From Home, I knew what a remarkable recording it was going to be. The Ebony Hillbillies bill themselves as "The Premier African-American String Band in America," performing an amazing strain of roots music that is thoroughly positioned in modern times and tackling modern issues in a gloriously old-fashioned way. Here you have a septet of performers--Henrique Prince, Norris Washington Bennett, Gloria Thomas Gassaway, William "Salty Bill" Salter, Allanah Salter, Newman Taylor Baker and A. R. "Ali" Rahman--playing such instruments as fiddles, banjos, dulcimers, shakers, bones and cowboy and washboard percussion. It all sounds wonderful, of course, both guttural and clear-eyed, and in a way I haven't heard before.

The Hillbillies got their start on the streets of Manhattan--what an amazing sight (and sound) that must have been. Since those humble beginnings, they have appeared at both Carnegie Hall and the Lincoln Center, and they've appeared numerous times on TV. They mix Americana, or what used to be referred to as "jug band" music, with a topical approach that is both humorous and socially aware. The result is unique and as bracing as a well-deserved slap in the face. These seven musicians handle a wide variety of genres such as bluegrass, gospel, blues and jazz, applying it to originals, covers and a few thrilling instrumental jams. This is music that will make you want to dance--until something is said that will make you stop in your tracks and think.

That "something" might be the three gunshots that come at the end of "I'm on My Way to Brooklyn," a sweet and inspiring spiritual up until those dreaded exclamation marks. It might be some of the lyrics in "Another Man Done Gone (Hands Up Don't Shoot)," such as "He had a hoodie on!," and you'll suddenly know who they're singing about. This is protest music mixed in with a keen sense of musical history, and it's as intoxicating as it is questioning.

The sound quality is stunning as well. All of that stomping and hooting and whacking is vivid and immediate, and the bass notes, played by Salty Bill, are particularly rich and deep as if you can hear the old floorboards under him creaking with the energy. There is some tinkering with the vocals at times that's meant to mimic an old recording, but that's as authentic as the rest of it. 5 Miles From Town, released just after New Years' Day, is hopefully positioned to define 2019 and what's to come over the next twelve months--a better understanding of how things are, how they've been and how they could be. It should create a musical bond between everyone who listens to it, and it's already my favorite release of this very young year.