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Rating: 9.0/10 (4 votes cast)
Some of you may have noticed that I have been MIA over the last several weeks when it comes to proper album reviews, and for that I apologize. I blame my recent absence on a combination of the stress from my job hunt and move to NYC along with the fact that I haven’t come across a record that really struck a chord with me in quite some time. Maybe I got burnt out on music for a bit or maybe there has been a dearth of solid releases recently, but either way I knew all of that was about to change the second I got my hands on the latest effort from The Dutchess and the Duke. I have been eager to sit down and spend some time with this record for months now, and after pumping it through my headphones for the past week it has not let me down.
I feel that I should begin by giving you some background on my love affair with this band. Those of you who have been reading us regularly may recall our praise of their set at the Pitchfork Music Festival back in July. A friend of mine suggested them as an act that I absolutely had to see, and based on that recommendation Kevin and I made it a point to take in their set. In retrospect that was some of the best advice that I have gotten in a long time, as we were both absolutely blown away by their incredible performance. Before that day I was largely unaware of the Seattle group, led by Jesse Lortz and Kimberly Morrison sharing guitar and vocal duties. Keeping in mind that it isn’t common to fall head over heels for a band based on a live show with no knowledge of their back catalog, especially for a couple of music snobs like us, you should be able to imagine how much I was looking forward to hearing this record.
One of the most striking things that I took away from their Pitchfork set was the stunning and intriguing juxtaposition of dark lyricism set to an oft-raucous explosion of folk and Americana jams. Much of the reason for the rowdy live set was the inclusion of several members of The Ponys sitting in with the band, and was intensified by the playful stage presence of Lortz and Morrison. There were moments where the group forgot some chords and started songs over, the occasional use of clever props, and several rounds of witty banter exchanged with the crowd.
When comparing what I experienced that afternoon to what I heard on the album there are similarities and differences, but the songs are every bit as excellent as I remembered them. The dark and brooding tone and content are still present, but the nature of the music takes a more purposeful and serious approach on record. Tracks that seemed lively and fun become deeply emotional and far more moving, while some of the slower numbers feel far more earnest and heartfelt that I ever would have imagined. Part of this is due to the recording process, which makes the entire album feel like an uncovered treasure from the past, maintaining a vintage 60’s vibe yet sounding timeless and classic throughout. At times recalling shades of The Mamas & The Papas, Sunrise/Sunset oozes with 60’s AM Gold vibes as it tears through then tracks of country and chamber folk gems. I hate to use such a clichéd phrase, but this is the kind of record that begs to be played on vinyl.
The album begins in a flurry with “Hands,” which may be the standout track on the record. Opening with a simple arrangement of vocals and drums, the track sways from soft to hard and back again, punctuated with a dark guitar solo and driven by Lortz’s booming vocal contrasting with Morrison’s soft croon. “Scorpio” shows a more tender side, showing that the two vocalists truly know how to compliment each other. This becomes particularly evident during the brief acapella break before things pick up again with a swirling melody of guitar twang and sailing violins. The next track, “Let It Die,” exemplifies the band’s formula of telling a dark story accompanied by an upbeat tune. The lyrics describe an intense, unfulfilled desire, yet musically the song soars with an upbeat feel. As with several tracks on this album, if you were to listen to the vocals and music separate from one another you may think that you were hearing two different records. “Living This Life” slows things down just a bit, but it is a beautiful and epic song full of harmony and kettledrums. Signaling the end of the first half of the record, the title track is the first in which Morrison’s vocals take center stage. Though she sings in a quiet rasp, it comes across with a sense of subtle urgency that pulls you in. It’s clear that she has something to say and is intent on making you hear it.
The theoretical B-side of Sunrise/Sunset, which takes on a slightly more melancholy tone, begins with the unadorned country number “Never Had a Chance.” It’s a simply structured acoustic song that finds Lortz singing of regret over a love that didn’t work out and truly sets the tome for the second half of the record. “I Don’t Feel Anything” continues the theme of love gone wrong. The lyricism is serious and cold, filled with equal parts sorrow and anger. This is another great example of the contrast between substance and sound, as the musical side of things seems to tell a completely different story; moving stuff to be sure. On “New Shadow” the band does their best to channel the late Johnny Cash as they churn and chant their way through the most traditional country track on the album. “When You Leave My Arms” finds Morrison taking the reins once again on a haunting track about a cheating lover. The song opens with the musical equivalent of a thunderstorm. The melody is soaring and gloomy at once, as cymbals crash over eerie violins and a weeping guitar. The piano heavy closer, “The River,” provides an appropriately contemplative end to this moving record. Decidedly stripped down, Lortz’s focused vocals control the track, which tells a story of getting older and looking back, feeling destined for sorrow, but it is Morrison’s tearful accompaniment that makes the song come alive.
We are a bit tardy with this review, which means that Sunrise/Sunset is out now on Hardly Art Records and should be available for purchase wherever you normally buy music (we suggest using the link below to buy from Insound as it helps support the site, hint hint). I am not going to go so far as to say that this record is for everyone, because it is not, but if you have any taste in music whatsoever you should thoroughly enjoy it. Don’t take my word for it though, check out a few tracks for yourself below before you click the Insound link and snag your own copy.
The Dutchess & The Duke – Living This Life
The Dutchess & The Duke – Hands
Buy The Dutchess & The Duke @ Insound!
Hardly Art put up a little stand underneath the tent at The Pitchfork Festival this summer, and while there’s not a lot of time to scurry back and forth between acts on each of the three stages, we were able to stop and talk to Sarah who was peddling all sorts of merchandise and promoting her bands. On her request, we headed over to the side stage to catch The Dutchess & The Duke. It was midway through the afternoon, our vodka was nearly gone, and we were pretty tired, to be frank. When the band of whistling hipsters walked on to the stage, we didn’t realize that the band was essentially Jesse Lortz and Kimberly Morrison. They rolled onto the stage without any pretense with several pals from other bands and did nothing less than blow the densely packed crowd away in a short 35 minute set. As I sat in the photo pit with my measly point-and-shoot, I began to notice something unfold in the music. I turned around and looked at the crowd. Asses were shaking, heads were bopping, and a near square dance mentality was surging through the crowd. My confusion was pretty intense, because the lyrics coming out of Lortz and Morrisons’ mouths were entirely morose and brooding. What fun. Sunset/Sunrise is a power packed album of formulaic folk with about enough wicked sneer to raze buildings. What’s so noteworthy about this release is how well the live material is equally matched in the recording studio. Lively country folk with dreary lyrics. It’s not a new formula. What’s so unique about this album, as opposed to many others of similar ilk, is that Lortz and Morrison do it sincerely, and the push and pull of tortured relationships and pining regret are gorgeously contrasted with a wide spanning variety of upbeat and burning, edgy folk.
