A letter, a lament, and a rant. That is how Owen Young describes the three songs on this accurately titled ep. This third installment of the Muddy River song cycle reminds us that even the most basic of singer-songwriter forms – one man and one instrument (and just a few deft additions and layers) – can be arranged and delivered in any number of ways, that boiling things down to a simple essence allows for nuance and texture and tone and a host of other sonic quality to bubble up to the surface.
“Voices in the Dust” is based on a letter sent to an old friend discussing the necessity for humility, a reminder that each generation is merely a temporary guardian of this planet, that we need to remember that our actions sit at the end of long histories and at the start of even longer consequences and potential. A gentle reminder put to equally gentle music, dexterously picked acoustica and vocals oozing timeless wisdom, with only a beat to drive things along, a neat fiddle break, and additional vocals to sweeten the deal.
The lament comes in the form of “Runnin’ Down the River,” a busier flurry of sixties-infused, banjo-fied, alt-country cool. It is a nostalgic reflection on the idealism of the young and the compromises and corruption that creep in as those ideals and inspiration run out of energy or are forced off track. We could have done anything, the song says, but instead, we settled for the easy route, the self-serving route, for greed and selfishness. The hippy dream was killed and replaced with what? Well, look around you.
Suitably, the rant that we end on, “That Could Have Been You,” is a broad call for empathy, love, understanding, and forgiveness, touching on everything from colonialism to homelessness to domestic violence, a song that cocoons itself in increasing sonics as it moves, but never smothering the sound or sentiment through any heavy-handedness. Even in its crescendoing final moments, there is a deftness, delicacy and grace to be found within.
Owen Young sits in that place where the singer-songwriter and the roots band meet, the sound of the solo artist just coloring their songs enough with beat and drive, melodies and motifs, layers of tone and texture, just enough to create well-rounded song but ones that still let the light in.
Music that is both timely and timeless.
