Review Summary: The Bellingham Sound?
Bellingham, WA is the type of place which looks notable on a map, almost as far north as you can go on the West Coast while staying in the United States, while wedged between the mountains and the sea. I’ve been there once, my visit taking place on the kind of misty and rainy day typical of the Pacific Northwest climate I grew up in, and my lingering memory of the place sticks with me, defining Bellingham as a kind of beautiful and melancholic outpost on the edge of the world, even if in practicality it’s simply a mid-sized city not too far from either Seattle or Vancouver.
West of Roan hails from that very locale, and their music feels as lonesome and otherworldly as my remembered sense of the town’s vibe. The duo behind that moniker provides us listeners with very traditional-sounding and hushed folk tunes, oft-minimal arrangements generally built around vocal harmonies and gentle acoustic guitar. Their latest effort,
Queen of Eyes, is rather dreary, or quaint, or profoundly beautiful - all depending on your perspective. The only quality comparable to its complete lack of energy is its haunting mood.
At times, these songs flirt with a more Celtic vibe, or with Simon & Garfunkel-esque folk pop, but most of the runtime adheres to a simple format - slow-paced, quiet, and generally archaic, a fitting description given the album’s overriding concerns are folklore and Mother Nature. It’s a sedate listen with a timeless feel, the kind of meditative release which reminds us that everything lives and dies, we’ll all eventually be gone, and the cycle never ends. Whether those thoughts are bleak or oddly comforting to you,
Queen of Eyes is a suitable soundtrack to such contemplations. Sonically, it’s a rather “love it or hate it” affair, refusing to bend an austere style to accommodate a wider palette, but as far as creating a little self-contained world inside of a record, damn does it succeed. Check if you dare.
