When you delve into the heart of “Friend,” the latest tune from Riley Skinner, you realize there’s more to it than meets the ear. It’s a deceptively simple song that strays across various musical styles, skirting the edges of sonic pastures, both past and present. Rather than fully committing to any one genre, it forges its own unique outsider style, dancing on the peripheries of familiar sounds.
Skinner channels the singer-songwriter spirit, yet modernizes it with crisp electric guitar waves that nod to what was once called the college rock sound. There’s a hint of folk music, but it’s updated into something more robust, maintaining its essence while veering into unexplored territories. What sets this apart is its ability to blend robust sounds with a raw vocal vulnerability, seamlessly intertwining force with fragility muscle with melody.
And it does all of this whilst leaving plenty of space. Space for the light to get in. Space for other sounds, beyond the dutiful bass and beat that serves the song perfectly, to pool and percolate in the cracks between one fading note and the ushering in of the next.
It’d be convenient to slap a label on “Friend” as just another serving of modern singer-songwriter stylings. But that would be a disservice to the song. This is no gap year kid with a wide-brimmed hat and a hippy attitude or indie kid with complicated hair thrashing away on a battered acoustic, which is what such a term conjures in my mind. No, this is music with a genuine sense of place, authenticity, and heart, borne from the raw experiences of real life. Riley Skinner is the real deal, and “Friend” is a testament to that undeniable truth.
