33 Revolutions is a weekly column by Vinyl Tap staff writer David Lefkowitz. Each week explores a different album, too old to warrant a traditional review, but for one reason or another deserving of a closer look.
Where I'm from, December is always a crapshoot. Virginia weather is some of the most indecisive I've encountered (in the "cold" months, that is), never able to settle on a temperature for more than a week or two before changing its mind again. When I was 13, it got down to 5 degrees on the first night of the month (I remember it vividly - I happened to be camping that night. Ever wake up with your nose frozen shut?). By Christmas day I was in short sleeves again. It was 28 degrees last Thursday. I am writing this at 10 AM, Thanksgiving Day, and it's 70 degrees outside.
With so little to rely on weather-wise, one starts to cling to the couple of seasonal hallmarks they can actually count on. For some, it's the changing of the leaves. For others, the inescapable tide of Christmas music that rises so suddenly every late November. For me, it's the early sunsets. Here in the South, December means the sun starts setting around 4 PM. My behavior barely changes, but the environment that surrounds them becomes, almost imperceptibly, just a little cozier. Daily activities become nightly activities. Soup rises to the forefront of everyone's mind. Suddenly, you can stand outside at 6 PM each night, look up at the stars, and listen as the chattering nightlife of the forest gradually gives way to the quiet stillness of winter. It's a very specific experience, to feel the earth fall asleep beneath your feet. It's rare I find a piece of art that can capture this specific sort of peaceful joy; even among the few that have, Like The River Loves The Sea stands in a class of its own.
Released in August of 2019, there is a gentle comfort that permeates each of the album's 12 songs. Recorded in Reykjavik by a band equal parts Kentuckian and Icelandic, the album explores the musical traditions of the Bluegrass State (Shelley's lifelong home) from a healthy distance away. It feels incredibly familiar, even on the first listen, and yet equally fresh upon every return. From the soft refrain of "Tell Me Something" to the roving, mechanical bluegrass of "Coming Down For You," Like The River winds through 38 minutes of close, comfortable folk music. Featuring contributions from frequent collaborators Nathan Salsburg and Bonnie "Prince" Billie (both fellow Kentuckians) and co-produced by James Elkington, it's an album devoid of haste, steeped in beautiful Icelandic scenery and centuries of pre-American Appalachian tradition. It's an Americana record divorced from the context of America, a tree without a trunk, just a vibrant canopy above and a deep, winding maze of roots below.
The album's title is taken from a Si Khan song ("Like Butter Loves Bread," spectacular in its own right) and draws parallels between love and other forces of nature. They're inexorable, unhurriedly relentless, and - in the end - out of our control. Like the river loves the sea.
So let the days get shorter, I don't mind. Just give me a mug of something hot, maybe a thicker pair of socks, and some headphones. I know what I'll be listening to.
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