Dawes - That Western Skyline

So Dawes opened for Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros last week in Calgary. Sharpe was effin' sharp-as. But Dawes provided the perfect backdrop to Ed's dance and sing along like it's your birthday everyday approach.

The instrumentation was oh so tight - these guys can play. Extended solos, swinging rythm, and a lead singer with just the right mix of twang and heartache to match the sunny California harmonies without sounding tooooo derivative. $10 for their album? And they happily signed it for us after the show? Por que no?

The studio, sadly, is not Dawes' strong suit. The instrumentation becomes too sparse, each song a pale pastiche of its predecessor. But oh, "That Western Skyline", the first song - methinks it sets the bar mighty high.

The song redefines less is more. It aches and bleeds. The vocals are trepidacious and regretful. He is so shattered by his decisions that he can't even fathom making another one. The drums are there, but they don't give a damn, like they can't really be bothered to keep up time, but do it anyway, out of habit.

Premise is simple enough - I chased after a girl, moved cities, but oh, oh my, it didn't work out. It's written in the form of a letter, to someone named Lou. "Oh Lou/ no my dreams did not come true/ they only came apart".

For the first few listens it just sounds like a Neil Young ripoff. To tell you the truth, it still does on the ninth listen, but I'm alright with it.