×
Kicking off like Seattle’s answer to our very own Bon Iver,The Cave Singers’ sophomore effort cracks and acoustically buzzes like the busylot of today’s bearded, flannel-clad folk rock. While not so overlyharmony-happy as their obvious cohorts, Fleet Foxes, the granola lyricism andpoppy twang sound much like a different strand in that same earthy quilt. Theboys are at their best when vamping up their bare-bones approach with a scuzzylayer or two here and the occasional Black Keys-esque, Stratocaster hook there.“At the Cut” approaches a Stonesy swagger, and “Vv” errs toward the softer sideof The Faces.
But they generally tend to find their way back tothe front porch. And while lead singer Pete Quirk’s guttural whine seems mostlyobsessed with nature, trees, sun and such, it’s the “Summer Light” ceding tothe coming gloom and “Bramble” of autumn that rightfully gives the group itssense of time and place.
