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Joe Vann’s new record is a literal and spiritual homecoming. The singer-songwriter’s debut solo LP, Found In The Smoke, is an intimate rummage through his past: it weds the freewheeling experimental aesthetics of his beloved indie band, From Indian Lakes, with the music traditions on which he was reared while growing up in a trailer on an acreage in rural northern California. The result is an emo-meets-outlaw Americana love letter—like Justin Vernon and Townes Van Zandt locked in a cabin in the Sierra Nevada for months—with phosphorescent synths, hushed vocals, and hardy guitar work.

Kassi Valazza has a viscous, light gold voice. It swirls around in your head like whiskey in a snifter; vaporous, and intoxicating. For most of Dear Dead Days pedal steel and electric guitar lope along at half time, the in pocket rhythm section booming from deep in the low end. Its frequencies penetrate your flesh. The songs reverberate off your bones. Her lyrics drip down the inside of your skull. On the opening track “Cayuse”:
“cause they’re hard runnin’ critters, and wild-eyed quitters / kicking up all they can find / that fool hardy man of mine”
Musicians with Southwest origins dependably bring a languorous relaxation –the slow pace a defense against the oppressive heat of the high desert– and a grim sense of gravitas, having walked among the bleached bones and arid landscapes. At times Valazza sings as if her lyrics are smoke she’s exhaling. On “A Fine Colour” she sings every note clearly, and with force, on a surrealist-jealousy jawn.
“Juniper has come and gone this year / Soft whispers in my ear / Broken promises she swore to keep / That don’t mean a damn to me / like pickin’ daisies off your tongue / life’s a gamble for you, son…”
Likewise “Sad Songs” calls out a triflin’ troubadour. Melancholy and psychedelia folllow Kassi wherever she goes. Down the road on “Chino” she sings “…and I guess that I’ve been doing fine / and I reckon I could ease my mind / if my bills were paid”.
On the folk-tale “Mary Valaza and band craft a southern rock setting for a parable about being careful what you wish for, and –conversely– sticking around long enough to get your rewards.
The album backs off to half-time again and vibes and guitar reverberate from down the hall on the waiting-around-to-die country song “Running on Empty”. The country-soul torch-bearers “Johnny Dear” and “Verde River” illuminate side-b. You get the hint: Valazza is pretty goddamn good at writing a sad song –but there’s another element, a painted desert, couloured canyon walls at sunset, endless sky vision. Kassi will be your peyote coyote; a guide through these psychedelic vistas. Here she’s found a way to trap the world of cheaters, drifters, lovers and leavers in amber. Wander from your own woes, and come walk with Valazza’s.
Sean Jewell - American Standard Time