Essential Tune: Marissa Nadler, “River of Dirt” mp3

Easily one of the most addictive songs I’ve heard so far in 2009 is Marissa Nadler’s “River of Dirt.” (See mp3 below.) It will be featured on her upcoming record, Little Hells, which will be released by Kemado Records on March 3, 2009.

This is a song I’ve had on repeat a lot. It boasts a beautiful melody and a haunting atmosphere due to Nadler’s voice gliding over the music. This is essential listening. There will certainly be more coverage of her record on this site over the next few months. In the meantime, check out the song below and keep Nadler on your radar.

Marissa Nadler’s “River of Dirt” from Little Hells which will be released on 3.9.09.

Or you can hear the song here.

Lo-Fi Round-up: Introducing WAVVES and The Pains of Being Pure at Heart

2008 was a good year for lo-fi and noise pop bands. Perhaps the most lauded lo-fi records of last year were No Age’s Noun and Vivian Girls’ self-titled debut, both of which came in on many year end lists and received a fair amount of critical praise. It is fitting that those two records received the most praise as they represent the two sides of the spectrum within noisy,lo-fi pop. No Age crafted an album of simple pop songs that were buried underneath a layer of fuzzy noise. It was the kind of record that you either loved or hated. Meanwhile, Vivian Girls fell more on the pop side of the spectrum by losing the layer of noise and crafting some fast-paced poppy-punk songs with a healthy dose of attitude.

Next week two new lo-fi/noise pop bands are dropping records and both groups are basically new-comers. Interestingly, they also showcase the two sides of the noise pop world.

WAVVES

WAVVES is San Diego native Nathan Williams and when he isn’t blogging about classic rap and whatever else is on his mind he is recording songs in his apartment. Last year, Williams released a self-titled tape (which sold out and is soon to be re-released in other forms) and a few 7″s. Now he is releasing his second album (which is really his debut as fas as most people are concerned) and it’s called WAVVVES (notice the three Vs as opposed to the tape, WAVVES, which only has two Vs) and to make things even more confusing they have really similar covers of kids skateboarding from 1992 or something. Other than confusing people about his releases, Williams loves combing sunny beach songs with noisy punk and putting the word “Goth” in as many song titles as possible: from his self-titled tape: “Intro Goth,” “California Goth,”and “Beach Goth,” and the up-coming WAVVVES features songs like “Summer Goth 2,” “Surf Goth,” and “Goth Girls.” I would love to see a song called “Goth Goth” on his next outing. And Williams might do it, he seems to be a funny guy. His songs are very noisy, maybe more towards Times New Viking style of noise rather than No Age brand. In other words, this record won’t appeal to tons of people, but the people that dig it will probably really enjoy it. Williams, who is 22, is combining so many of his musical influences in such a unique way that some have prematurely hailed this new record as “the sound of American youth.” I wouldn’t go that far, but it’s an interesting record if this is your thing. Check out one of the best songs on the record, “So Bored,” and a few others at WAVVES’ myspace.

WAVVVES will be released on Feb. 3 by De Stijl and my review of it will be posted here next week. [UPDATE: The WAVVES record will be released on 3/17 by Fat Possum.]

The Pains of Being Pure at Heart

If WAVVES is on the noise side of the genre, then you can safely assume that The Pains of Being Pure at Heart represent the pop side. This group formed in 2007 and have released a few singles and an EP on a couple different labels but are now dropping their full-length debut and it’s a great record. There’s no layer of noise in the forefront of these songs, but they still pack a punch. The guitar sounds range from fuzzed out distortion to jangly pop similar to early R.E.M a la Murmur and Reckoning. There are also some great harmonies provided by guitarist Kip and keyboardist Peggy. What’s most impressive about this record is how solid these little pop gems are. Some of them feel like instant classics and many of the tracks sound like they have fallen right out of the 1980s. Check out two of the tracks from this record, “Come Saturday” and “Everything with You” at brooklynvegan. For a couple more tunes check out their myspace. This is a band to watch.

The Pains of Being Pure at Heart’s debut record will be released on Feb. 3 by Slumberland Records and my review will be posted here next week.

A tip ‘o my hat to…

….Josh Breeden, friend and family to Tone Marrow Reviews, for the awesome new header above. Josh is a graphic designer living in Memphis, TN working for “The Man” of soda corporations, Coca-Cola. When he isn’t doing that he’s making art, doing some free-lance work, building a massive vinyl library, going to tons of shows, and basically living a Bohemian lifestyle.

Check out the art and show posters at his website.

Thanks, Josh.

Cotton Jones: “Paranoid Cocoon”

Growing up in West Tennessee, I knew better than to expect much snow during the fall and winter months because it wasn’t cold enough for it. Instead, we had an endless gray ceiling hanging over our heads from November to March. I’m convinced those days would have been easier to bear if I’d had a record like Paranoid Cocoon on hand. These countrified, psychedelic pop songs roll along like the sleepy ocean waves which were as infrequent in my childhood as snow. Cotton Jones manage to capture a sadness that is deep, but blissful. The tunes seek out the languishing soul, not to aid in wallowing, but to uplift. In that way, the songs on Paranoid Cocoon are not unlike modern day versions of the Old Testament Psalms in their ability to wed lament and hope.

It isn’t a stretch to hunt for biblical allusions in the songs by Cotton Jones (recently shortened from The Cotton Jones Basket Ride) because the group’s songwriter, Michael Nau, also penned songs as the front man of the now defunct indie-folk band, Page France. Their music was known for including interesting theological language and imagery, this was particularly true of their terrific 2005 album, Hello, Dear Wind. When Nau announced in 2007 that Page France was no more and that he would be focusing his creative energy on Cotton Jones, his side project with fellow Page Francer, Whitney McGraw, many fans were worried that the Page France sound would be no more. Shortly thereafter, a string of respectable Cotton Jones’ EPs proved those fears to be reality. So it is fitting that on the opening track, “Up a Tree (Went this Heart I have),” Nau sings out, “Shake me up, Shake me up/I’ve got to get to something new,” because with Cotton Jones he certainly has.

The acoustic guitars form the foundation here while the electric guitars and organs float through the songs applying touches of country, rock, and gospel where needed–a move that would surely make M.Ward proud. The record clearly puts forward a specific atmosphere that make the songs seem to flow together. At times, it’s difficult to recall when one song ended and the next began, but this isn’t a negative because the individual melodies are memorable. You ingest the album as a whole, a fabric that shouldn’t be divided. “Little Ashtray in the Sun” does stand out just a bit as it takes things up a notch in it’s perky mood but it’s perfectly placed near the end of the record, lifting the music up in preparation for it to calmly drift away again.

The voices on Paranoid Cocoon often sound like they are being sung through a tin can or being delivered from some kind of, well, cocoon. This slight distance doesn’t alienate the listener, but bids them to lean in closer. They sing about love lost and love longed for and in one of the saddest songs in the set, Nau tells himself that he’s “Gotta Cheer Up Now.” Yet, the songs never come across as mopey or schmaltzy, they seem genuinely heartfelt and carefully level-headed. Nau has left behind the tenor yelp of Page France and sings in a much lower register here and it really works. The lower tones fit these tunes perfectly and help to further remove Nau from the plethora of nasally, male indie singers out there. Nau has matured in his songwriting since his days of leading Page France as well. Previously, his lyrics were full of imagery and were emotionally touching, yet, they were a little thin both musically and lyrically. His words are more subdued now, freed up from some of the heavy-handed imagery on previous records.

Nau’s skill for writing simple songs that pack an emotional punch has only increased in the last couple years and his vocal harmonies with McGraw have never sounded better. While groups like Fleet Foxes and She & Him garnered critical accolades last year by crafting beautiful songs using ’60s and ’70s folk/pop conventions, Cotton Jones tap into the hazy, druggy vibes of the hippie movement from the same era. They have created a gorgeous blend of folk, rock, gospel, and country, all the while maintaining a light psychedelic edge helped by the presence of the Rhodes organ which at times is brings The Doors to mind. The songs feel fresh and altogether outside of time. Paranoid Cocoon has a palpable sadness, but it’s a kind of resurrection sadness that leaves you feeling renewed afterward. Cotton Jones have crafted a record that, true to it’s title, is soaked in sorrow and paranoia with an undeniable hope just under the surface from which a simple, dreamy beauty emerges.

Stream the album while you can.

Cotton Jones
Paranoid Cocoon
Suicide Squeeze, 2009
Rating: 4.0/5.0

Bruce Springsteen: “Working On A Dream”

One thing is for sure, the new, happy Springsteen is nowhere near as fun as the angry, fiery Springsteen that has been a prophet of rock’n'roll for more than three decades. The Boss’ ’70s work was a Van Morrison-inspired blend of rock, R&B, and a little funk in which he sang what were basically short stories which idealized and romanticized the colorful tapestry of street life in Asbury Park, New Jersey. Most of the work from this time is superb, particularly The Wild, The Innocent, and the E Street Shuffle and the classic Born to Run. A few years later Springsteen’s music took a darker turn. With Darkness on the Edge of Town, The River, the phenomenal demo cuts that made up Nebraska, and even the synth-heavy, 80s-drenched Born in the USA, Springsteen really played up his blue collar roots and focused on sticking up for the marginalized. In the era of hairbands and other terrible 80s trends, The Boss was the working man’s rock star.

Through all of this he became somewhat of a symbol of the down-trodden in American popular music and this is what Bruce Springsteen is best at. Consider his most recent accolades for The Rising and We Shall Overcome. The former was the definitive, American response to 9/11 and the latter a collection of traditional folk protest songs for the post-9/11 Bush years. His fine 2007 recording, Magic, was his official statement of the 2000s and it was clearly fueled by his anger that his 2004 candidate had lost the race for the White House. Now, he faces an interesting problem: with his man is in the White House, what’s there to be angry about? I’m sure something will come along eventually, but as for now, everything seems hopeful and as a result, The Boss seems to be running dry on anger and inspiration.

As the story goes, once recording for Magic was completed, songs just continued to flow from Springsteen’s pen and he and the faithful E Street Band would record them on breaks from their tour. Though this might sound like a rush of creative energy and an inspired time of writing, it doesn’t show on his new record, Working on a Dream. The songs don’t feel like they flowed from the creative depths of an artist, they feel forced and tossed off. It’s as if Springsteen didn’t give his musical well time to replenish–he just continued to pump it, though nothing was left but muddy water.

For instance, the opener, “Outlaw Pete,” is an eight-minute track chronicling the the times of a baby criminal (?) and it never really takes off. It just moves on and on through moments that are clearly meant to be powerful, but aren’t. I could imagine this song being enjoyable if it built to something, if it had some force or some personality. Contrast this with the aggressive, attention-grabbing opener of Magic, “Radio Nowhere.” On the new record, songs like “Lucky Day,” “Working on a Dream,” “What Love Can Do,” “This Life,” and “Surprise, Surprise” are meant to show a different side of Springsteen as he celebrates love and life, but each of these tracks is bland and passionless. They don’t sound like celebrations, they sound like rehearsals. Working on a Dream also has the dubious distinction of containing some of Springsteen’s worst lyrics: “Well surprise, surprise, come on open your eyes/And let your love shine down.”

In other words, everything pretty much runs off the tracks on Working on a Dream: the songwriting is weak, the performances are uninspired, and the slick, bland production of Brendan O’Brien doesn’t do anything to save it from becoming a complete train wreck. Springsteen goes from self-parody (“Outlaw Pete”) to unbelievable sentimentality (“Queen of the Supermarket”). Even the work of everyone’s favorite rock saxophonist, Clarence Clemons, can’t add much personality to these tunes. At the end of the day, not all of these songs are terrible, but they are not what we usually hear from Springsteen and E Street–it’s Springsteen Lite. It’s not a record that you’ll want to turn off, but it’s just not a record to which you’ll feel a desire to return. After listening to it multiple times, I can’t really recall much from the songs, they all just run together in an stream of music that is utterly unforgettable.

Perhaps, I’m being somewhat harsh on The Boss here, but that’s only because he’s held to a higher standard. He is one of the staples of rock’n'roll. He has a large discography with some staggering high points and only a few missteps. So, we really expect more from him, which makes this record all the more difficult to handle. Though the record is not entirely without it’s bright spots. There is a delightful, blusey number called “Good Eye” and the “bonus track” is the exceptional, Golden Globe-winning song, “The Wrestler,” from the movie of the same name (recently snubbed by not getting an Oscar nomination for Best Song). There is also a touching song called “The Last Carnival” which is dedicated to long-time E Street keyboardist, Danny Federici, who died of cancer last year, though he is featured on some of the songs here. “The Last Carnival” is the last track of the “official album” and there is a brief pause of silence at it’s end, perhaps to indicate the end of the album proper before the bonus track, “The Wrestler,” begins–but I’d rather think it’s a moment of silence for their fallen friend. Sadly, that fifteen seconds of silence might be the most moving moment of the entire record.

Bruce Springsteen
Working On A Dream
Columbia, 2009
Rating: 2.0/5.0

Introducing Dead Man’s Bones (Ryan Gosling’s band)

In the latest news of actors trying to crossover into the music world, Ryan Gosling is a part of a two-piece band called Dead Man’s Bones with friend, Zach Shields. And similar to actress Zooey Deschanel’s 2008 crossover in She & Him, Gosling’s band sounds old-fashioned and surprisingly good–based on one song anyway.

Apparently, Gosling and Shields both have fascination with zombies, ghosts, and spooky stuff–as well as an appreciation for children’s choirs. Here is a video shot when they wrapped recording on their album. The song is called “In the Room Where You Sleep.” I really like Gosling’s old-fashioned singing style, if their entire record (which they hope will be released in June) is like this–then I, for one, am very excited about it. This is a band we’ll definitely be following this year.

Dead Man’s Bones’ Myspace

(HT: Pitchforkers)

Andrew Bird: “Noble Beast”

Rising out of the dark, electric shadows of his 2007 album,  Armchair Apocrypha, Andrew Bird greets the dawn of 2009 with Noble Beast, a set of carefully crafted and (mostly) acoustic songs which sound gorgeously lazy thanks to their heavy country-folk leanings. Much like it’s cover photo of a country field at either the first rays of dawn or the last dying glow before dusk, Noble Beast is a calm, peaceful, laid back affair–so much so, in fact, that it may come across during a first listen as being a little soft in the teeth, but that is far from the truth. It’s teeth are sharp, they just take their time sinking into you. Bird’s wit and lyrical prowess are in top notch, as expected, while his violin, acoustic guitar, and whistle get plenty of action on this daydream-paced record.

Though each of Bird’s records have had a distinct sound and style, all of them are sonically tied together by his violin, whistling, distinct arrangements, and carefree vocal delivery. And so in some ways, this sounds like a typical Andrew Bird album, yet, because of the prominence of the folk-y acoustic guitars and the unencumbered ease with which these songs roll along and unfold, the record has an alluring looseness about it. It’s so easy-going, that it may take a few listens to really catch onto to the nuanced treasures that are embedded in the music and words of these songs. But for any listener who puts in a little time, a uniquely rewarding listening experience awaits. The violin-guitar interplay that graces most of these songs adds an intricacy to the music that perfectly matches the complex wordplay, yet the songs never feel like gimmicks or mere word games, they resonate on an emotional level revealing a real substance beneath the surface.

Anyone familiar with the previous work of Andrew Bird knows that he is a brilliant lyricist as well as a gifted weaver of themes in his music. Much of this record is spent meditating on what it is to be human. Surely, a human being is the “noble beast” in focus here. A human is at once similar to the rest of the animal kingdom, and yet, above the rest of the animals with an intrinsic dignity and nobility that no Zebra or Dachshund could ever attain. And yet, a “noble beast” sounds like a bit of a paradox–it brings to mind a creature that is at once proper and wild, intelligent and instinctive, good and evil; yet, that sounds very much like the contradictory, messy beauty that we call the human experience. From this strating point the themes of Noble Beast spring and there are few wordsmiths who could handle them like Andrew Bird. The words from his pen are simultaneously thought-provoking and entertaining (note: you may need a dictionary and lyric sheet for some of these tunes).

To quote extensive lyrics would ruin them by removing them from their proper context as well as their medium, after all, these are lyrics, not poems. However, one example may be needed. Bird taps into certain universal feelings of inadequacy, guilt, and conscience in creative ways that capture feelings that people have every day: “So they took me to the hospital/They put my body through a scan/What they saw there would impress them all/For inside me grows a man/Who speaks with perfect diction/As he orders my eviction/As he acts with more conviction than I.” Those words appear in “Masterswarm,” but how exactly do they fit with the rest of that song and it’s reflections on insect metamorphosis? That’s part of the fun with Andrew Bird, the songs are so well-crafted, music and words so inextricably connected, that the songs are both beautiful objects to be admired as well as puzzles to be unlocked.

The best thing about Andrew Bird (and any record for which he tunes his violin) is the unparalleled sense of professionalism and craft with which he works. It never feels like he gives anything less than his best and with Noble Beast being his seventh studio album, that’s a track record difficult to compete with. On tracks like “Anonanimal,” “Oh No,” and “Souverian” it certainly feels like Bird puts more thought and care into making a song than many artists put into entire albums. This is what fans have come to expect from Bird, and it’s what brings them back with such fervent devotion. Sure, he might come across as a bit of an egghead with his extensive, clever wordplay–but he is a talented egghead who seems to understand people and his music is all the better for it. This record doesn’t roar through the stereo like a mighty river, rather, it trickles and bubbles along like a brooke, slowly drawing the listener downstream. Noble Beast is a slowly intoxicating album which should not be missed and, in time, it may reveal itself to be Bird’s greatest album yet.

Andrew Bird
Noble Beast
Fat Possum, 2009
Rating: 4.0/5.0

Or, the Whale: “Light Poles and Pines”

Though based out of San Francisco, it seems surprisingly authentic when the members of Or, the Whale sing wistfully about “the old deep South” on the opener, “Call and Response,” and declare that that they are “headed back to New Orleans.” Perhaps it’s the shimmering pedal steel guitars, or the frequent three part male and female vocal harmonies, or the acoustic guitars and banjos that sit together like long-time drinkin’ buddies, or perhaps a mixture of all of these things that give Or, the Whale’s debut, Light Poles and Pines, such an authentic, deep-fried Southern feel.

This seven-piece band, who take their band name from the subtitle of Herman Melville’s novel, Moby-Dick, self-released Light Poles in 2007 but after being signed to Seany Records, it’s finally receiving a wider release. And much like the enormous white whale for whom they are named, they are a difficult band to corner. Or, the Whale, with their bright, attractive male and female vocal interplay and lush harmonies, bring to mind many sensational folk-country ditties from the past much like those recently heard from Kasey Chambers and Shane Nicholson on last year’s tremendous Rattlin’ Bones. And much like that record, the melodies here are instantly singable and they’ll linger with the listener for a while. But then there’s the defiant closer, “Fight Song,” which is an unmistakable cousin to the indie music scene and sounds eerily similar to the folkier moments of former indie underdogs, The Anniversary (R.I.P.).

Attribute it to the large size of the band and the fact that there is safety in numbers, but this group boasts a whale-sized sound. With layers of guitars and banjos supporting the multi-voice harmonies and the bass and drums keeping the songs from tossing in the wind, Or, the Whale understand how to utilize their assets. This record is clearly a full band affair which gives a sense of community and fellowship to the music which is an integral part of Southern music. There is also an impeccable sense of mood displayed in these songs. Whether it’s a tender ballad or a rowdy front porch number, the band always seems to play it with the appropriate thumblin’ playfulness or wistful regret–making for a varied, refreshing record.

Lyrically, they know all the right cards to play to maintain that Southern vibe–songs about whiskey, songs about traveling, songs about love and heartbreak, and songs about wrestling with personal demons. Yet, the catchiest and best track here is the rollin’ thumper, “Call and Response,” which seems to offer a touching reflection on returning to New Orleans after Hurricane Katrina. It’s sung with a delicately balanced sense of longing and melancholy that is nothing short of masterful.

Or, the Whale achieve all of this with an endearing self-conscious sense of their craft–take, for instance, the front-porch stomper, “Threads,” on which a voice cries out “Gee-tar” in an overzealous accent just before the guitar solo cuts in. It’s silly and fun and fits perfectly on an album like this one. It’s hard not to like a record that would include that as well as smirking lyrics like: “I’m just twenty-four and I’m weighing my worth/But soon I’ll be twenty-five/Just bury me alive” and then goes on to describe heartache with: “All my major chords keep driftin’ into blue/Oh, tell me, what’s a country singer supposed to do?” It’s humorously bluesy lyrics like these that solidify their style in the Southern music tradition.

Or, the Whale have crafted an album that is an inspired stew of Appalachian folk, Nashville country, Memphis blues and rock’n'roll, front porch jug music, with a dash of indie pop. Though Or, the Whale don’t really break any new ground on this debut, they certainly prove that they’ve perfected the blending of styles which begets the strange animal known as alt-country. It’s a solid, charming record and it’s one 2009’s first gifts to those with a hankerin’ for rowdy country-folk.

Or, the Whale
Light Poles and Pines
Seany, 2009
Rating: 4.0/5.0

Stream M.Ward’s “Hold Time”

Well, the good folks at NPR have done it again with their generous Exclusive First Listen series. They are streaming the upcoming M.Ward record, Hold Time, in it’s entirity. The album will be released on 2/17 and it’s good–very good. This is a record I expect I’ll be listening to all year long. Expect to find a glowing review back here in February.

Also, here is the cover art:

Bon Iver: “Blood Bank EP”

Justin Vernon surely had no clue of the success that would come his way when he holed up in a hunting cabin two winters ago to write the songs that would make up his debut album as Bon Iver. Now Bon Iver has become a three-piece, though it is still clearly the Justin Vernon show, and they have put out a new EP called Blood Bank. It seems that this recording is meant to serve two purposes: (1) to display Bon Iver’s new sound as a three-piece band, and (2) to ease the pressure off of Bon Iver for the sophomore effort (many bands fall prey to the sophomore slump, never to be heard from again). After touring in support of the critically acclaimed debut, For Emma, Forever Ago, for over a year, you can’t blame the group for feeling nervous about the expectations from critics and fans for new material. All of these songs have been showing up in Bon Iver’s live shows in recent months and so it made sense to put them to tape and make a four song EP out of it.

The opener is the title track which was written with the rest of For Emma, Forever Ago, but apparently it didn’t seem to fit on that record. So here is Bon Iver as a band: a chorus of Justin Vernon’s vocals singing over a lone electric guitar before reverb and percussion slowly emerge in the background–wait, isn’t this just an electric version of what we heard on For Emma? Yeah, kinda. The arrangement is as spare as anything on the debut, though the electric guitar adds a nice, new touch–perhaps this is a sign that there will be more electric songs in Bon Iver’s future? The song itself is actually really good. These lyrics seemed to be composed in a traditional manner as opposed to the bewildering, cryptic words in previous songs. There is actually a story in these words and Vernon sings (nearly sans falsetto) with the great emotion and care that we’ve come to expect from him. Easily the best song here.

“Beach Baby” is a slow, acoustic number with Vernon’s patented falsetto singing. It feels kind of like a “standard” Bon Iver tune until a shimmering pedal steel guitar comes in and steals the show–it’s one of the brightest moments on the short EP. Sadly, the song is about two minutes shorter than the rest of the songs and it ends right when it feels like it’s getting started. As a result, it feels a little half-baked as if it would only serve as filler on an actual LP.

“Babys” begins with tinkling pianos running circles around each other before a chorus of Vernon’s voice drops in. It’s interesting to hear a Bon Iver song that’s mainly composed of pianos–an experiment that pays off. It’s a fine song that shows promise for stylistic variety in future tunes. The closer, “Woods,” is a completely a capella song of the largest Vernon choir yet assembled. The voices are filtered through the horrendous auto-tuner (curse the person who invented that piece of equipment). It’s an experiment that only Kanye West could be proud of. It’s sort of interesting and kind of annoying.

So in one sense this little EP succeeds. It cleanses the palate from the debut and frees the band up to go in several directions for the next full length record. It features an electric song, pianos, and an a capella song. Three of these songs here are actually really enjoyable and fans of For Emma will probably dig those and many will even like the auto-tuned mess of a fourth song.

Yet, in another sense the EP falls short in that it really doesn’t showcase the development of Bon Iver’s sound from a solo act to a band. The other band members seems to exist simply for touring because they certainly aren’t utilized to develop a fuller sound in recording. Perhaps this was to be expected, Bon Iver’s music might always be cold and sad and it may always make use of sparse, lonely arrangements regardless of how many people are in the band. But that is what people want to hear from this group. It would have been nice to hear a song that experimented with different moods and emotions rather than one that experiments with the auto-tuner. One might expect Blood Bank to be a warmer set of songs to contrast with the lonely chill of For Emma, yet, that isn’t really the case. The truth is, you might have a warmer time in a blood bank freezer than you will listening to these songs, which is what many people want from Bon Iver which makes this, at the end of the day, a fairly safe outing.

Bon Iver
Blood Bank EP
Jagjaguwar, 2009
Rating: 3.0/5.0