The Slow Harvest Pose Existential Joy on Selections From the Sad Bastard Songbook
Alexander Taurozzi guides us through the existential joys and sorrows of Selections From the Sad Bastard Songbook, the debut album of The Slow Harvest.
“These are songs written for those who know we are all prisoners, incarcerated on a rock hurtling headlong into the infinite void. For those who know there is no such thing as winning and no such thing as being right. No beginning and no end. These are songs about the hard-won redemptive power of love, survivor’s guilt, and the crippling fear of being alone. These are the things we are too scared to confront during the daylight hours, but that unfailingly return to haunt us come the long nightfall.”
The Body Keeps Score, a book everyone is at least marginally aware of, dictates that the body indeed keeps a score of trauma. For the canary in the coal mine, that trauma is in the vocal chords. Selections from the Sad Bastard Songbook by the Slow Harvest feels like we are listening to that canary singing its beautiful song as the mine collapses into darkness.
The first song, "Evensong," is contemplative and sorrowful. It symbolizes an end to a painful chapter in life, yet a reluctance to let it go. “Don’t ever let this chapter end” is the refrain. Husband and wife Bryan and Tamara Kroes sing a duet, one of the many in the album and a great introduction.
My personal favourite song is "This House is Too Quiet." The lyricism conjures imagery such as “a tree decked out in tinsel”, “Dust covered pictures, smiles frozen in time.” Neglected and forgotten domesticity set to Matt Vollmer’s slow six stringed bass sounds like something epic, as if this ballad of failed Americana belongs in Red Dead Redemption 2, or a classic Western that game draws upon.
"There Has to Be More" keeps us moving with a rolling bass, a tale of rolling with the punches on dusty roads, and a folksy chorus featuring electrifying guitar chords and a solid solo. "We’re Already Dead" continues a folksy, almost revelatory vibe set to a wicked pedal steel. "Ignorance is bliss, because youth comes without doubt”. Like the entire album, this song pokes at a country-inspired joy in the apocalypse. “Ain’t nobody win, ain’t nobody right. / There ain’t no beginning or no end / We’re already dead.” Conveyed in the cover art of a solar eclipse, and a
family watching on, this theme is everywhere in the instrumentals, the lyricism, and the powerful imagery – and the vocal performance of Bryan Kroes.
I don’t know much about Bryan Kroes, but I know "North Country Snow" comes from a real place. Bryan Kroes sings mournfully about taking Mom down to Nashville one last time on a road trip. “Keep on driving, mama oh mama just please be awake” is powerful, it is painful, and Kroe’s powerful and sorrowful vocals take us to a place of death. Kroes reminds us time moves by so quickly, it disappears through our fingers.
"Too Much" is a beautiful slow dance song. It is the longest song in the entire album, and has these strings that call out longingly in the middle of the song. Tamara Kroes joins in for this one. “Time won’t repay each second we squander, what is it all for?” I don’t know. I just don’t know.
"If Not for Love" is the most confident and energetic the album gets. The Kroes continue with these harmonies that scream determination, and we dive into another great guitar solo. “Each mile is measured of misery without love” is an amazing line. "Time Doesn’t Matter" continues these themes of love in the darkness, “In a blink of an eye, classic storybooks die”. In the grander scheme of the album, compared to love, time doesn’t matter on this slow burning track. “Mere existence is a miracle, like an unhealed soul / Time doesn’t matter no more / it just goes on forever.”
"Staring at the Horizon" is for all the insomniacs out there, with an epic ending, thumping feet, and a twang that would fit into any duel to the death. I have to say, this is the least memorable song in the album although I enjoy the concept of entering a Mexican standoff with the Moon before bed. "We Could Use a Little Rain" is the gruffest we hear Kroes’s voice go, and the only song to feature a crowd of other folks. They are asking for a flood to wash away the sins of the world a final time. Biblical. We truly are living in Biblical times, and it is work to feel and continue to foster joy. Selections from the Sad Bastard Songbook is a powerful reminder of this fact, and truly takes thematic turns and twists with the country sound.
Any artist can make grand declarations of love, passion, or even resignation for the end times over expensive production. Selections from the Sad Bastard Songbook uses its country charm to bring us into embrace, a resignation to spiritual unknowing. When you hear this album, you will experience the sound of existential joy.
