Horse Feathers - House With No Home reviews
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A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y
| Thephoenix |
 It’s not a sad album, but it is mournful, in the hushed and satisfying way that Sunday afternoons in November can be; the atmosphere is attic. Justin Ringle, who lives in damp, gray Portland, Oregon, writes simple, subtle songs that can be tucked right in under the Americana quilt. Titles like “Burden,” “Working Poor,” and “Different Gray” give away the record’s disposition, as do plunky-plucked banjo, fiddle, and a cello that resounds in all the right ways. Any initial quaintness complexifies into something richer, more layered. Ringle has a voice that gets compared with Sam Beam’s and Nick Drake’s for its warmth and gentleness. (The Creek Drank the Cradle spun in my CD player for the better part of a year; House surpasses it.) But though his singing is warm and calm, it’s often the strings that become the main characters....full text |
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| Avclub |
| The equipment list for Horse Feathers' second full-length, House With No Home, suggests an album of ornate chamber-folk: cello, violin, viola, zither, banjo, saw, mandolin, etc. The actual playing cuts toward the "American primitive" vision of Gillian Welch, especially on "Heathen's Kiss." The bowed, stringed instruments loosen up, drifting and swelling away from the sharp, staccato playing of the band's 2006 debut, Words Are Dead. It's as if Horse Feathers now wants its instruments to emulate the uneven creaks in Justin Ringle's voice, which can keep a melody surging even when it fades to a whisper. "We are young, we are weak / just as blank as we are bleak," he sings on "Working Poor," meeting exhaustion with the swagger of a beer-hall sing-along....full text |
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| Tinymixtapes |
| It’s funny how music you’ve never heard before can elicit overwhelming nostalgia. From the moment you hear Portland-based Horse Feathers singer Justin Ringle’s croon on their latest album’s opener “Curs in the Weeds,” it’s hard to forget times of serene happiness in your life. It’s hard to forget times of youthful bliss, and it’s downright disturbingly difficult to forget the impact of young love — or maybe it’s just me....full text |
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