Folk music in all its guises is often an unforgiving genre to enter into.
Given the tendency for critics to label every contemporary iteration of a sound dating back many centuries, across a rich international tapestry, to the zenith of sleek production Mumford & Sons, or the commercialised pop leanings of Noah and the Whale, it’s easy to see why members of East London’s Dry The River have met such naive comparisons with understandable grievance.
As critically acclaimed 2012 debut album ‘Shallow Bed‘ can lay testament, beyond a penchant for soaring harmonies there is little evidence to suggest this band are merely carbon copies of their fellow folk rock luminaries, showcasing as it did Norwegian born lead singer and guitarist Peter Liddle vocally caressing a feathery instrumental blanket of violin and keys, leading into winding refrains blending the vibrant power of Brandon Flowers’ vocal range and dexterity intermingled with a White Lies aping ability to create a crescendo often teetering on the brink of unsteady foreboding in their fragile complexity.
This emotionally charged wrangling of instruments continues on ‘Alarms In The Heart‘, but with additional emphasis on sky scraping choruses and heavy guitars as an offset to the input violinist Will Harvey had on the previous record before departing earlier this year.
The intriguing sonic exploration begins with the imposing organ chimes of ‘Alarms In The Heart’, before Liddle’s dulcet tones become increasingly earnest in the yearning cries of, “Is it peace of mind, maybe all that I need is that you’d be straight with me tonight”. The intensified guitar strummed prelude develops into a full blown guitar backed chorus, complete with lead interludes before seamlessly weaving back to the softer verses in a song which refreshingly plays with conventional stanza structure for a multi faceted set of varying refrains.
A wistful track in the form of ‘Hidden Hand’ is delivered in the playfully whimsical style of Morrissey’s more recent solo work, backed by crashing waves of power chords which dampen so as not to engulf a biblical themed tale of paranoia and ‘talking snake’ fuelled symbolism, an example of the adept striking imagery Liddle conjures in his starkly depictive narratives.
The falsetto tones of Liddle announce ‘Roman Candle’ as a slight guitar strum evokes a suitably pensive atmosphere to accompany heart wrenchingly self-effacing words and the unanticipated addition of a female voice; Scottish singer-songwriter Emma Pollock, who provides an added choral input which in hindsight may have been used to greater effect on the album as a whole, such is its suitability to the instrumental platform and the band’s folklore sensibilities.
A defiantly alt-rock sound in the mould of recent Augustines output welcomes listeners into the whiskey drenched world of the Southern Rock inspired Americana and album highlight ‘Med School’. Expertly construed rhyming couplets are spouted in time with a pounding drum beat and distorted chugging chimes for a track etched in the shadow of Bruce Springsteen’s back catalogue, transporting us to a lively saloon bar music scene somewhere in the Old West, where curfews are drunkenly ignored and the beer is ever flowing.
Liddle’s poignantly, near-shrieking vocals add further pertinence to a solemn account of death and betrayal on the single ‘Gethsemane‘, providing a segment of slow burning plucked acoustic splendour which showcases the band at their contrastingly stripped back best, harnessing the penetrating wit of the religious subject matter which draws on the eponymous garden in Jerusalem where Jesus was said to have been arrested before crucifixion, while ‘Everlasting Light‘ arrives towards the latter stages, offering another stand out which comprises arguably the greatest balance of understated verse mixed with ever bolstering melodies.
The vigorous march of the electric instruments throughout much of the record is halted to some extent in the closing moments; a total of 15 minutes’ playing time spread between the sombre violin and guitar fused ‘Vessel’ and the final 10-minute epic of truly refined focus, moving towards the glistening rumbles of ‘Hope Diamond’ while elegantly growing into a saccharine ballad to rival any other.
Classically themed intellectual content, stemming from a university based education in medicine and anthropology, makes for a cathartic exploration of the human form under a mingled overlay of classic pop rock, operatic tinged gospel leanings on ‘Shallow Bed‘ have taken somewhat of a backseat here in favour of a move towards a budding post-punk sound.
Dry The River have created a faster paced resonance where listening never becomes a chore as they power through a cornucopia of pastoral influences which are harder to pin down than many would believe.
