A glowing album review might end with a phrase (or something like it) stating (more or less) that this is one of the better works of its ilk. By that end point, the writer will have very likely already spilled a bottle’s worth of ink to tell you, the reader, why that album is like a golden trout in the proverbial pond full of brown. This review won’t end like that, though: it will say, straight out, that House With No Home by Horse Feathers (Kill Rock Stars) is easily one of the strongest records in the art/alt country genre this year—make that any year.
Justin Ringle of Lewiston, Idaho (late of Portland, Oregon) is the spark and steady hand that guides Horse Feathers. Even in the symbol the band name summons, there is a depth of character (named for an absurdist expression Ringle’s grandfather used to employ) that ignites images. Most of the songs—“Curs in the Weeds” and “Working Poor,” to name a few—are hushed, ghostly, like a well-worn country corner story. They beg the listener to drop all else and actually listen. All of Ringle’s wry, lyrical depth comes through sparse, minimalist sounds, giving the impression that what story is being told is akin to a civic secret. With cello and the requisite female backing vocals (Heather Broderick) and a multi-talented instrumentalist/studio engineer (Peter Broderick, also of the astounding Loch Lomond) the band doesn’t patch together their sound—they weave it, with skill.
Whether you want to call this an Americana album or if the old standby alt country label still works, it doesn’t much matter. This is a strong record and not for the potential it demonstrates. What Horse Feathers really has is a latter day Nebraska, evoking similar shapes and shadows from the burned out American landscape. Other bands are mining that tableau, but House With No Home lights a candle in that eerie chamber, making it something that threatens beauty.
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