We all have our vices in life, even and perhaps especially when it comes to music. For me, I can't resist beautiful voices wrapped tightly around dark folk melodies. The Long Wives feed my habit by crafting shatteringly simplistic songs that pile emotional weight after weight onto the listener as the tune develops, each layer of sound gliding behind the next like shadows upon shadows.
The standout track from The Long Wives, "The Hollow Fin," is deceivingly gentle. The softly-plucked guitar and the eased restraint of the vocals invite the listener to get close to the speaker and its warm, wispy, radiant sounds. But there's more to this track than meets the ear. Like most great pieces of art that explore the juxtaposition between surface appearances and the evils that can lurk below (see Blue Velvet), the power comes from an unidentifiable element onto which the consumer just can't seem to put their finger. It's the feeling that you're being watched at night. That sense that something bad will happen. Then, moments later... nothing. Maybe you chalk it up to your mind playing tricks on yourself. But what if the evil is there and we just can't see it, or in this case, hear it?
The more I listen to "The Hollow Fin," the more I'm convinced that it isn't my mind playing tricks on me. As I delve deeper and deeper into the layers of The Long Wives, the darkness doesn't grow any clearer, but it does manage to tuck itself away into the core of my senses, sending chills up the spine. It's a track that reminds me how the power of music can sometimes exist in that section of mood that hides far below simple expression.
(Head over to Disco Naivete to hear more from The Long Wives)