Posts Tagged ‘New Bums’

New Bums – “Turned To Graffiti”

Still loving every thread of this upcoming New Bums LP and the band lets out another great track from its folds. With a cryptic video attached, Donovan and Ben set the backdrop on the fatalistic “Turned to Graffiti.” The song has a bittersweet core but there’s breeze in its bones, with chiming guitars that pull from the slight sway of South American folk music, feeling like it might be celebratory if there wasn’t worry between their words. Both songwriters have long been favorites around here, so its great to see them teaming up for a record of furrowed, road -dusted new folk favorites. The new LP, Last Time I Saw Grace is out March 19th on Drag City.

Support the artist. Buy it HERE.

0 Comments

Donovan Quinn

Like a star on the horizon, Soft Abuse comes creeping in with some essential late 2019 releases, including the fourth solo album from Donovan Quinn. The California songwriter has been a longtime fixture on RSTB, having anchored Skygreen Leopards, New Bums, and Verdure in the past. His albums are few and far between, bucking a trend of so many lately to work feverishly to amass a catalog that could cripple shelves and wallets alike. Quinn’s measured pace always pays off with songs that constantly recontextualize the past into something undeniably new — like beams of a barn brought to new life in new construction. The ghosts of those beams remain ever present and they seep out slowly into the room to mix with the mites and stir up the senses.

The songs on Absolom are even more haunted than most of Quinn’s works, having evolved from an idea to build songs around the lore of other artists. Ultimately that idea was set aside, but there’s still a feeling of these songs having been lived in, lyrically or otherwise by the ethers and embers of the past. On the long, winding highlight “Satanic Summer Nights” Quinn conjures Nikki Sudden with an ear towards ambitious boundaries. Its Sudden rewriting the The Pretty Things’ Parachute for a new age. Elsewhere Quinn’s tales are rife with loss, haunted not only by his heroes but by feelings just out of reach. He saunters through the rooms, touching each stick of furniture and mourning the dust as much as the lack of inhabitants that let it settle.

On Absalom Quinn’s assembled a rotating cast of performers from his circle but their contributions are just paints in his set. There’s rarely been a record that has more of Quinn’s mark on it. His voice is embedded in the grain of the guitars, the worn spots on the piano keys, the magnetic fields on the tape. Whether or not these tales are his, he’s embodied them with his whole and its an undeniable record, one that stands high in an enviable catalog. Its late in the year, which makes me think that a lot of ears have shut themselves tight, but I hope this one reverberates across the cold air and into the hearts that need it.



Support the artist. Buy it HERE.

0 Comments

Sign up for the RSTB digest and receive a compact version of the best of Raven every two weeks.