| Pitchfork |
If you still think of the Cave Singers as a side project, a spinoff, a lark dreamed up by a few ex-punks with big back porches, I say go with it; two albums in, you've almost got to wonder if that's not how the Cave Singers still see themselves. Derek Fudesco, late of much missed incandescent emoters Pretty Girls Make Graves, and a crew of fellow Pac Northwest facial hair enthusiasts got together a couple years back to make an EP and then later an LP, 2007's Invitation Songs, of ultracasual folk, floaty and freewheeling but tossed off and only fleetingly memorable. Given Fudesco's hyperkinetic pop pedigree, this new thing seemed an oddly easygoing showcase for his formidable chops, like one of those dreadful early-90s Jerry Garcia/David Grisman albums that announced on the cover they were recorded over a weekend. The Cave Singers just seemed like a band who'd have to get real good real fast or probably wouldn't feel the need to do what they'd done already; that lark thing again.Yet here we have Welcome Joy, their second long-player in just shy of two years, so if this is all a goof, this bunch has an enviable amount of time to screw around. It's yet another fine and mellow set of twangy, slightly tart folk rockers, warm but patchy like a farmer's tan. Lead singer Pete Quirk's amber voice is wavering and grainy as ever, and the tunes roll by nice and easy like a pickup rattling down a country road. But from the wide open arrangements to the tug'n'tumble of Fudesco's picking to Quirk's reedy bleats never quite congealing into memorable ditties, Welcome Joy does precious little to distinguish itself from its predecessor....full text |
| Contactmusic |
| Review of The Cave Singer's second album Welcome Joy released through Matador Records. Seattle trio The Cave Singers delighted us with their debut album, Invitation Songs - a brilliant collection of American alt-folk tracks. They return with the follow up Welcome Joy, which although remaining true to their roots, has a slightly bigger, more rock sound. From the melodic picking of opener Summer Light, The Cave Singers show you exactly what they're about. Although the album is undoubtedly more polished than their debut from a production point of view, they still retain that rustic country charm. The foot stomping country of At The Cut shows The Cave Singers Gospel side before the band drop Shrine - a real stand out track. It is musically sparse, building gradually with haunting layers of gentle drums, tambourine and melodic guitar. It allows Pete Quirk's extraordinary vocal delivery to make an impact before thumping drums burst through and then fade out to return to the slow tempo folk - truly mesmerising....full text |
| Nme |
| based ‘post-folk’ trio The Cave Singers, who formed from the remnants of Pretty Girls Make Graves, knows how to do a mean Bob Dylan. He does the full range from syphilitic tramp sitting on a tumble dryer to bleating sheep in a haunted abattoir via brain injury victim trying to sing with ball bearings in his mouth. It’s a shame that Quirk’s quirky vibrato is so prominent as it ruins an album that otherwise sits somewhere between untroublesome and mildly enjoyable. The music owes a big debt to the freewheeling likes of Fred Neil (‘Shrine’ bears more than a passing resemblance to ‘Everybody’s Talkin’’) but, apart from the odd stormer (‘Townships’), this is a pointless museum piece....full text |
The Cave Singers lyrics
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If you still think of the Cave Singers as a side project, a spinoff, a lark dreamed up by a few ex-punks with big back porches, I say go with it; two albums in, you've almost got to wonder if that's not how the Cave Singers still see themselves. Derek Fudesco, late of much missed incandescent emoters Pretty Girls Make Graves, and a crew of fellow Pac Northwest facial hair enthusiasts got together a couple years back to make an EP and then later an LP, 2007's Invitation Songs, of ultracasual folk, floaty and freewheeling but tossed off and only fleetingly memorable. Given Fudesco's hyperkinetic pop pedigree, this new thing seemed an oddly easygoing showcase for his formidable chops, like one of those dreadful early-90s Jerry Garcia/David Grisman albums that announced on the cover they were recorded over a weekend. The Cave Singers just seemed like a band who'd have to get real good real fast or probably wouldn't feel the need to do what they'd done already; that lark thing again.