By Dustin Luke Nelson

The Pines pension for roots music is abundantly apparent on their full-length debut Sparrows in the Bell. The album is full of folk ballads that subtly incorporate more modern influences, making the Americana at their core seem fresh and invigorating. Something near the core of what The Pines are doing feels inherently Mid-Western. The dark imagery of the album feels like it was recorded on the banks of the frozen Mississippi, begat of seasonal depression, ice-laden images, and an overdose of Robert Johnson and Eric Clapton recordings.

Sparrows in the Bell thrives on simple orchestrations, allowing the song writing to shine through. The songs are constructed so that when a touch of percussion, a wash of violin, or vocal harmonies surface they feel like a novel revelation. Even the metronomically minimalist drums, which draw heavily from the understated country rhythms of the 40s and 50s, feel like a novelty accentuating the fingerpicking acoustics that make up the bulk of the album.

Despite the appeal of the well-constructed songs, the formula becomes occasionally monotonous, blunting the impact of the albums finer moments. But when the songs are working, they are really working. Beautifully melding all of the elements into some of the finest folk music currently happening in the Mid-West. Even lyrically The Pines shine on their debut, there is something special happening during tracks like “Don’t Let Me Go.” The low accentuated mumbling of the acoustic guitars, gently playing with slick electric solos as they sing “I’m gonna pretend this is heaven, you know, just in case…but I get up to the gates and they don’t recognize my face.”

www.thepinesmusic.com

Filed under: Music Reviews