Field Report WIP

A google search for "midwestern depression" should, in a perfect and accurate world, turn up, first page, references to Chris Porterfield's Field Report project.  Once associated with Justin Vernon (of Bon Iver fame) back in the days when the pair were in DeYarmond Edison together, both apparently managed to - however independently - successfully touch on and embrace a certain aura, a certain chaotic existential rural gothic thing, that only living in the midwest can incarnate. While Vernon tended to focus more on the abstract of it, on his critically applauded For Emma Forever Ago, Porterfield targets his semblance in a more conversational form; penning lyrics to downtrodden, yearning compositions that almost seem like overheard drunkard's laments at the local dive bar, or phone calls made to a dear and trusted friend, in a moment of dilapidating angst or despair - e.g., "we fucked up and we won't admit, he said we fucked up and we won't admit it", in the confessional line repeated, almost redundantly, in the album's closing track "Route 18".

While Field Report's immediate appeal could be seen as hit or miss to most, with a debut album comprised of ten songs laid out in a succession that seems to make each more destitute than the one that preceded it, the opening track "Fergus Falls" is about the most upbeat track on the record - and that's by some considerable stretch of one's interpretation.  You won't find any anthem rockers on this, no catchy pop hooks that make it likely and easy to sing along to, no melodic guitar solos and certainly nothing you'll want to listen to in the car to lift your spirits on a Monday morning on your way to work.  What you have here, instead, are a series of bleak and depressing compositions that will speak to all that is empty and desolate inside of you; the uneasy feelings you tend to not want to look too hard at (and certainly not illustrate), the bitter despair and the empty satisfactions you find in the things that offer very little.  So why, and in what setting, would Field Report's music be fitting and appropriate?  Well... get drunk, feel sad and cry yourself to sleep. Think about all you should have done, could have been, would have said if only something else had been.  You'll need Field Report to bring that out of you, thoroughly nurture it so you can embrace it appropriately. Because who knows what you'd do otherwise, and quite frankly, in case you forgot this in a modern world where social media pop-culture fosters the impression that we're all happy and content and doing well: we're not. We're all miserable and sad deep down inside, and we all want what we imagine we deserve and should have attained.  As sung so poetically on the album's fourth track "Taking Alcatraz": "..and if we die here, well at least we made a choice... and a line in the sand don't matter if you don't care. 

Kate Tucker + The Sons of Sweden: Shape, Color... But No Feel

Kate Tucker and her Sons of Sweden ensemble can be given due credit for, if nothing else, having the marketing and social media aspect of music promotion nailed down fairly well.  Having had her songs appear as background accompaniment in countless popular television series (One Tree Hill, United States of Tara and Pretty Little Liars - to name just a few), makes it likely many people have heard her music... but ask them exactly who she is, or where they heard that one familiar sounding song, and they might struggle to recall the details. 

It's therein lies the problem for Tucker and the Sons of Sweden. They have a presence without having an identity, they have been heard without being listened to, and they kind of exist without having staked any real legitimate claim to their being around. When you're saying that about a band that is grossly underrated, poorly marketed or just plain creative beyond what the majority of the population can be expected to embrace - then that sort of misfortune is a shame. When you're talking about MOR music in it's most definitive form, as Kate Tucker & The Sons of Sweden are - well now that's about the most you could ever hope for! 

Here's a fittingly boring analogous comparison: Kate Tucker and The Sons of Sweden showcase themselves a lot like some publicly traded companies in the World Stock Market. There is a perception of success based on placement and investment, and stock prices put value on that illusion; even though in actual profit and losses accounting, those high priced stocks might actually belong to a company that is nowhere near solvent.  There's an illusion being sold there, and Kate Tucker's selling hers in that same intrinsic ideology.  The brass tacks, however, are that this is fool's gold at best. Thankfully for KT+SOS (as they so trendily like to abbreviate), there's no one interested enough to weigh the value of her band (except me, I suppose), but as long as the wheels stay greased and she keeps looking busy, we'll take stock in the belief that she must be pretty good - one of her song's was on CSI Miami for fuck's sake. Wha'dya mean she isn't the fresh new face of the Millennial music scene!??!

Abstract social-political commentary aside, KT+SOS's new album The Shape The Color The Feel, is not at all "bad music", per se; because for it to be labeled that way, there would have to be something challenging enough about it to spark or polarize, or encourage any severe differences in taste for its style or delivery.  Tucker sings very nicely, and her band plays adequately. That's about all that can be said about her and them and this. You're left with about as much interest in this album as you might be with the wallpaper in your dentist's office waiting room. It's something to enjoy when you're sitting there with nothing else to focus on, but that doesn't really qualify as interesting once you're free of it.... it qualifies more as Stockholm Syndrome, actually.  But hey - the packaging of the vinyl edition is quite handsome, and the album cover is eye-catching.  So even if the audio has no feel, the physical packaging does at least... and shape and color too!