Two years after releasing Union, roots-rock pioneers Son Volt will return with their tenth album Electro Melodier in July. The album features a new group of personal reflections and socio-political songs from frontman Jay Farrar, who originally set out to make a nostalgic record that paid tribute to the music of his youth.
“I wanted to concentrate on the melodies which got me into music in the first place,” Farrar said in a statement. “I wanted politics to take a back seat this time, but it always seems to find a way back in there.”
Farrar spoke to this tendency in his songwriting back in 2017. “I wake up everyday, read the news, and then ask myself, ‘What would Woody Guthrie say about these current times?’” he told Rolling Stone Country just a few months after the 2016 election. “I’ve been writing more songs than usual trying to make sense of what’s going on.”
The first taste of Electro Melodier is “Reverie,” an uptempo, hopeful reflection on persistence and hard-won perspective. “The whirl of time teaches all,” Farrar sings, his voice full of the world-weary optimism he’s preaching in the song.
Electro Melodier will be released July 30th and is rounded out by Son Volt’s current lineup, which includes Mark Spencer, Chris Fame, Mark Patterson and Andrew DuPlantis.
ALBUM REVIEWS
Victoria Canal’s debut album feels deeply. ‘Slowly, It Dawns’ sits with the emotions you stumble upon in your mid-20s, as the Spanish-American, London-based artist told NME in her Cover interview. Whether it’s realising “I’m never gonna have everything figured out”, or the so-called “quarter-life crisis”, Canal’s impressive (and Ivor Novello Award-winning) songwriting looks to her past to reflect on the realities of life: the idea that multiple things can be true at once.
Take the sweet, sharp indie-pop of ‘June Baby’, co-written with The 1975’s Ross MacDonald. Depicting the dizzy rollercoaster of summer romance, Canal candidly draws upon contrary emotions, reflecting on heart-racing early interactions (“Trying my best to/Savour your compliments”) and blurry confusion (“You saw me naked/Totally freaking out”). The brutally self-aware ‘Talk’, meanwhile, reflects on the fizzing honeymoon phase of early relationships when you ignore the red flags you feel in your gut (“Hold your gaze/Hoping that it doesn’t break”). It’s set over soft-rock instrumentals that recall alt-pop heroes like Beabadoobee or Clairo.
On early EPs, 2022’s ‘Elegy’ and 2023’s ‘WELL WELL’, Canal spun stories over lilting piano and stripped-back instrumentals. Sonically, ‘Slowly, It Dawns’ builds upon this existing world: the sweltering ‘Cake’, which depicts late-night debauchery (“Fuck the cake!/Let’s go straight to the vodka”) is filled with sticky basslines and woozy layered vocals, its second verse dusted in UKG beats. ‘California Sober’ is a sultry cut built around salsa rhythms and pulsing synths, while ‘15%’ could have been pulled straight from a noughties romcom with its swooning production, its harmonious melodies and instrumental arrangement evoking KT Tunstall.
There are moments of subdued beauty throughout. The record finishes with the one-two punch of ‘Black Swan’ and its sibling track ‘Swan Song’. The two tracks showcase the power in Canal’s songwriting; the former won the Ivor Novello Award for Best Song Musically and Lyrically last year, while the latter is a powerful musing on the fragility of life and forgiveness.
‘Swan Song’ concludes with the poignant question: “Who knows how long we’ve got?/As long as I am breathing, I know it’s not too late to love.” It’s both full of grief and hope, the two knotty emotions filling each other’s gaps in a moving exploration of loss. This duality is a powerful tool in ‘Slowly, It Dawns’: it’s compelling and moving songwriting that manages to depict all of life’s complexities, Canal spinning raw emotion into beautifully crafted songs.
