Cleveland unplugs for front-porch reverie on “Oh Man, Cover the Ground”

Music | May 27th, 2015

Billed as “12 songs about dark rooms, water, wind, stoned afternoons, sun in your eyes, sex, hair, snacks, death, & the beach,” Shana Cleveland’s solo debut, “Oh Man, Cover the Ground,” sounds appropriately like a slacker soundtrack. Beneath its lowest-key exterior, however, the album is a patient, homespun tribute to a particular set of misfits in folk music’s history.

In 2012, as her Spector-esque surf rock outfit, La Luz, was just beginning to make waves, Cleveland published a curious trading card set honoring the “Obscure Giants of the Acoustic Guitar,” complete with her own black and white watercolor sketches of Sandy Bull, Lena Hughes and 35 others. A labor of love, the set largely focused on musicians from folks American Primitive subsect, a niche of pickers whose work bridged gaps between classical music, country-blues and Indian raga. In reuniting with her occasionally-backing band the Sandcastles, Cleveland’s reverence for these unsung guitarists gets an aural translation that retains her card set’s clever charm.

As with her work in La Luz, Cleveland’s affection for American Primitive’s subterranean sound never veers into mimicry. She may give a nod to her dreadnought-droning heroes in her fingerstyle, but she doesn’t break her neck to pull quotes or capture any sound besides her own.

Beginning with the spare “Butter and Eggs,” she unspools a wistful vignette that defies its grocery list gravity. Her fingers perch sinister chords atop open-string drones while clarinet and cello swells haunt at the fringes, the song’s deathly aura making serious the album’s aforementioned themes. Seguing into “Holy Rollers,” Cleveland’s circular picking is enveloped by unassuming piano chords and an insistent, percussive stomp.

The songs here carry a front-porch feel, but the low-stakes vibe isn’t by happenstance. Treading lightly where her Primitive influencers may have indulged in extended ragas or instrumental suites, Cleveland reins in her picking to a tasteful degree, never letting a song wander into monotony. Only on the album’s closer, the public domain-skimming “Change in the Ocean,” does the band cross the four-minute mark.

Though their presence on the record is faint, the Sandcastles’ unobtrusive backing arrangements do well to augment Cleveland’s melancholy. Muted clarinet passages rise and descend, inflecting that promised dark room drear. A drifting piano solo may fill in an airy gap here and there, if only to remind you of the instrument’s presence.

Ultimately, “Oh Man, Cover the Ground” is humble, both in purpose and sound. An easygoing primer for the obscure art of American Primitivism, as well as a fine background to your own stoned afternoons, the record is a winsome solo foray for Shana Cleveland.

Notable tracks: “Holy Rollers,” “Potato Chips,” “Change in the Ocean”

KNDS 96.3 Suggests

“Dream Lover” – Destroyer

Time to dust off your sleeveless tees and headbands, kids. Galloping on with gusto enough to raise Clarence Clemons from the dead (fingers crossed!), Dan Bejar channels his inner Boss for this blue-collared romp.

“PARTYNAUSEA” – Lady Gaga ft. Kendrick Lamar

http://kwaminator.tumblr.com/post/119576114294/kendrick-lamar-ft-lady-gaga-partynauseous

Originally introduced as an interlude on a previous Gaga album, a full version featuring the globe-dominating rapper was leaked earlier this week, revealing a viciously poppy collaboration.

“Slow March (Demo)” – Mutual Benefit

https://soundcloud.com/fatherdaughter/mutual-benefit-slow-march-demo

Physically released as a 7” flexicard (essentially a postcard with record grooves), Mutual Benefit, the sweethearted electro-folk brainchild of singer-songwriter Jordan Lee, strikes again with this softly effervescing cut.

“Annie Hall” – Pavo Pavo

An appropriately spindly and neurotic pocket symphony, the New York outfit Pavo Pavo lets Woody Allen references and Brian Wilson hat-tipping flutter left and right.

“TV Set” – Spoon

Borrowing the eternally bopping tambourine shake from the Stones’ “Satisfaction,” the Texas quintet repurposes the Cramps’ 1980 tune as a menacing freakbeat stomper, while frontman Britt Daniels’ gritty, slapback vocals shake, rattle and hum with demented glee.