Review Summary: There's gospel in the pines..
The sixth full-length release from Songs: Ohia, a vehicle of the late Jason Molina’s winding blues;
Didn’t It Rain is the most sublime of slow-burners, seven takes of spare, skeletal melancholy, considerably more minimal than the lushness of
Ghost Tropic, and all the more ruinous for it. Each song of the record stands separately as a stunning little autumnal devastator, and together, the seven pieces plait into a guttering whole, the lo-fi indie frame turned sensuous and sombre with delicate touches of bluegrass and gospel. It’s music made for longing, for making long sleepless nights more crushing and bearable at once, something to hone the senses and cloud the mind.
The album doesn’t modulate its approach in the slightest, but that does little to hamper either the individual songs or their grand sum. It was never music written for the sake of showmanship or aesthetic release, and so the unvaried nature of
Didn’t It Rain’s tack lends itself to a greater form of intimacy than something more overtly artistically inclined could allow. It lets you both into Molina’s perennial tragedy and your own internal unrest. Still, the quiet understanding that is sewn into the record's run, that stoicism makes these simple songs feel bigger, brighter, and much more vital than what they appear to be.
Didn’t It Rain came along during a fruitful period in Molina’s life. The early 00’s would see him put out a full-length every year, peppering the spaces around the LP’s with splits and EP’s and one-off singles. In retrospect, it seems almost a survivalism of sorts, a frenetic work-rate as a way to shoulder whatever plagued Molina throughout most of his life. Bad tidings seemed to be rule of way for the doomed songster. By 2010, he’d cancelled most of his touring dates, stopped recording and retreated into isolation, and a short three years later, that static resignation would spell his death. Like the Sister Rosetta Tharpe song that inspired its name,
Didn’t It Rain is a picture of infinite sadness, men slipping through the cracks, seasonal rot and love’s savage tendencies.
