Eve Adams Metal Bird
The exceptional third album by the LA-based folk-noir singer-songwriter takes us on a journey through airborne imagery, from heartache and sadness to redemption and hope.
When I interviewed Laura-Mary Carter about her alt-country EP Town Called Nothing a few months back, she explained that the title was inspired by her being inextricably drawn back to the deserted town (Arizona. Population: two) again and again due to the beautiful isolation she found within its dereliction.
It's a similar story with this exceptional third album from Los Angeles based lo-fi folk-noir singer-songwriter Eve Adams, whose inspiration was drawn from protracted time spent at her grandparents' remote farm in the small township of Colcord, Oklahoma. Metal Bird’s title also acts as scaffolding on which Eve constructs airborne imagery to describe her state of mind during recording.
Opener 'Blues Look The Same' kickstarts this tender-hearted but turbulent journey into love, death, insecurity and loneliness, with its jazzy undertones highly evocative of grainy 1930s Hollywood film noir. Expertly produced by saxophonist Bryce Cloghesy, aka Military Genius, the mellifluous, smoky exclamation mark of 'You're Not Wrong' slides uncomfortably into album highlight 'Butterflies', where the tone disguises an underlying uneasiness that suggests you'll find much angst and anxiety if you scratch the surface a little too much.
The pin-prick, stabbing guitar on the title track accompanies a thoughtful yet cryptic lyric in a good cop/bad cop dance. It's as though Eve is inviting us to take a fleeting glimpse into limbo's purgatory state – hardly surprising given the strong references to Dante's Inferno on her debut.
That restlessness continues through ‘Woman On Your Mind', where a simple melody is juxtaposed against a questioning and challenging lyric; a theme of heartbreak that is repeated through the subtle piano refrain and guitar on ‘La Ronde’ that leads the listener by both hands into a land of sweet melancholia.
The beautiful, angular drone and harmonica cry of ‘Prisoner’ prefaces silky smooth album closer ‘My Only Dream’. This evokes a vision that beyond the world's frippery and sadness comes redemption, salvation and hope.
