Album Review: The Golden Grass, Life is Much Stranger
Posted in Reviews on April 5th, 2023 by JJ Koczan
They’re not wrong, you know, about the strangeness. When Brooklyn trio The Golden Grass, born a decade ago out of the harmony-prone collaboration between vocalist/guitarist Michael Rafalowich and vocalist/drummer Adam Kriney, released their first tape, 456th Div. (review here), it was a different time. And make no mistake, life was pretty strange then too, but the sunshiny melodic focus and unironic classic early-1970s heavy rock spirit they wrought on that 2013 EP and their subsequent, Svart-issued 2014 self-titled full-length debut (review here) distinguished them as an unapologetically optimistic presence in the heavy underground.
Throughout the remainder of heavy ’10s, The Golden Grass grew increasingly progressive, signing to Listenable Records for 2016’s Coming Back Again (review here) — their first with bassist/backing vocalist Frank Caira in the lineup — and their 2018 third album, Absolutely (review here), while touring internationally, amassing a reputation as craft-minded artists digging into their approach with a mind toward continued growth and flourishing of sound, and a sound that was made to flourish and grow. Melody, always, at the core.
That was half a decade ago, and what a five years it’s been. They did the live album, Heavy Colour in 2020, and the title-track of 2019’s 100 Arrows EP (review here) appears as the centerpiece on their fourth long-player, the Heavy Psych Sounds-delivered Life is Much Stranger, so at least some of the material on the seven-song/37-minute offering dates back that far, and you’ll pardon me if I spare you (and myself) recounting the multifaceted and encompassing trauma clusterfuck that the unfolding of the 2020s was and still is, but it leaves the looming question over Life is Much Stranger: is there a place in this world for The Golden Grass?
Life is Much Stranger opens with its longest piece (immediate points) in the six-minute “Howlin'” (premiered here) and the first lyrics of the record as delivered by Kriney would seem to be an acknowledgement of the bent timeline in which the album manifests. The initial verse begins, “I just don’t wanna carry on/’Cuz all my friends are dead and gone,” and has been the case all along in their work, that’s not accidental. The Golden Grass have always been a considered band, and that remains true on Life is Much Stranger as, they mostly take the issue head on, and much of what follows is informed by that perspective laid out right there in “Howlin’.”
Note that it’s not “I can’t carry on,” it’s “I don’t wanna.” This is a huge difference in terms of where the speaker is coming from in terms of mental state. Elsewhere in the proceedings, they explore the somewhat cynical “Not Without its Charm” — that cynicism is set to tambourine-inclusive Humble Pie-style funk boogie, mind you — and twisting leads from Rafalowich over Kriney‘s steady snare taps in “Island in Your Head” on side A, its proto-metallic central riff nestled a companion for second cut “Springtime on Stanwoods,” the “she’s a bad go-getter” chorus there feeling more like escapism than narrative after the confession of the opener, even with the woodblock keeping time. For a band whose initial purpose was in no small part to keep it light, some of the sentiment on Life is Much Stranger feels pretty heavy.
But if one would ask why, look no further than the title. Recorded by Andrea Zavareei, Lou DeRose and Kriney (who also helmed additional tracking afterward) at Urban Spaceman in Brooklyn with mixing by Jeff Berner at Studio G and mastering by Myles Boisen at Headless Buddha, the overarching vibe of Life is Much Stranger is one of reclaiming that space that the band once occupied in their listeners’ consciousness. From less capable songwriters, the contradictions between theme and their sonic expression — that is, the feel of the tracks themselves — would be too incongruous to coincide, but The Golden Grass are accordingly fluid on Life is Much Stranger, true to what they’ve done in the past while seeking out new ways to groove in hard times.
Kriney and Rafalowich mostly swap lead vocal duties — Kriney starts with “Howlin'” while Rafalowich picks up “Springtime on Stanwoods,” Kriney does “Island in Your Head” and “100 Arrows,” Rafalowich “Not Without its Charm,” Kriney the penultimate “The Answers Never Know” and Rafalowich the closer “A Peculiar Situation” — while complementing each other’s work thoughtfully. They trade lines and verses (nothing is so one-or-the-other cut and dry), come together in the rampant hooks for lush but willfully unpretentious arrangements, with Caira backing while thickening the twisting progression at the finish of “Island in Your Head,” underscoring the prowling shuffle that emerges following the Scorpions-esque harmony about 90 seconds into “The Answers Never Know,” and insuring via smoothness of tone in “A Peculiar Situation” that they cap on a highlight.
Across the span, the songs are bright in the high end, with shimmering guitar and outgoing vocals working against the more introverted aspects, and are perhaps that much more urgent for the sincerity of the search The Golden Grass are undertaking, which almost makes it a shame they already put out a record called Coming Back Again when one considers the back-at-it nature of this outing, arriving after the longest break between albums of the band’s career to-date. Rafalowich seems to answer Kriney direct in the first verse of “A Peculiar Situation” with the lines, “Trying to keep it together/But my mind’s like a restless child,” and that’s as much emblematic of the cohesion of purpose in The Golden Grass as the down/up nature of Life is Much Stranger as anything else, but one should not understate the sense of release in this material.
To most humans, finding catharsis in realizing existential angst in uptempo positivist boogie rock might be counterintuitive. It’s another day at the office for The Golden Grass, and they offer reassurance to their audience both in the ease of movement in “Island in Your Head” and the sweet jazzy meander tucked into “Springtime on Stanwoods” as well as the crisp, pro-shop production, chops-heavy-but-not-too-showy performances captured, and the unhurried nature of their transitions. Does Life is Much Stranger succeed in shaking off the negativity of its era? It’ll be impossible to know until they do another if they do (one never knows), but no question they take the untethered atmosphere of the time since Absolutely came out and use it to sculpt relatable and engaging songs, conveying exhaustion without giving the impression of actually being exhausted.
So, to return to the question, is there a place in this world for The Golden Grass? Was there ever? Is there a place for anyone? I’m not sure, but the fact remains that they tapped into something distinctly theirs 10 years ago, and in the tumult-defined years since have only managed to move it forward in style and substance. And there’s depth to Life is Much Stranger that goes beyond the layered voices singing out through the headphones. That they even made fourth record is heartening, never mind actually hearing the thing, and if offering comfort is going to be the hallmark of this era of their work, they appear ready for it and up to the task. They’re survivors and they sound like it.
The Golden Grass, Life is Much Stranger (2023)
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