When Strand of Oaks’ new album, HEAL, was conceptualized, it probably sounded like an unremarkable trainwreck. I could see Tim Showalter in a room saying, “It’ll be like really mellow folk-punk, and also, we’re gonna put some ambient synth and heavy metal guitar riffs in there too.” The only reason you wouldn’t roll your eyes is that Tim Showalter has the look of a Viking warrior. However, what should be a seven-car pileup is one of the most exhilarating, soulful, and unique experimentations within the songwriter genre to come along in a good while.
HEAL simply grabs influences from far too many genres to be put in a box. It transitions between aesthetic styles with a deliberate pacing, opening with “Goshen ’97,” as something akin to early The Heavy, gradually bringing in synths to become more and more comparable to Depeche Mode, and by the time the songs “For Me” and “Wait For Love” come around, sounding more like the lovechild between Cold War Kids and Black Rebel Motorcycle Club. Each song is so radically different that the only thing keeping them identifiable as the same project (or even the same artist) is a rock solid aesthetic and thematic coherence; it’s a record with something to say, and while finding an overwhelming variety of ways to do so, doesn’t go off message for even a second.
The track “JM” is what really exemplifies everything that works about this album; it’s where HEAL goes from simply shifting between different styles to sublimely merging them into a single sound. The song combines furious (yet carefully layered) guitar riffs, melancholy piano, and vocals with a hushed intensity over hooks that concisely capture the bittersweet nostalgia of backwater suburbia. It’s the album’s zenith, a near-perfect balance of head rocking indulgence and sorrowful meditation, tapping into and honoring his fallen songwriting hero, Jason Molina.
And what really should be recognized is that this album is the result of a lot of experimentation and a fair share of failure, coming off 2012’s admittedly subpar Dark Shores, which missteps may fall more heavily on the the shoulders of the album’s producer John Vanderslice. Yet that tonally messy album was really just Showalter coming out of his melancholy comfort zone and realizing the need to trust his own instincts. The result is his latest offering that’s able to make sorrow and existential dread exhilarating and a musical style that’s utterly unique while still feeling completely organic. At its worst, it’s pleasantly reminiscent of other artists and styles, and at its best, it’s blending them together in a way that one could hardly imagine possible. – Daniel Ludwig