One Friday night in NYC, while the missus was off gallivanting in London, I jumped the L-Train over to Brooklyn to check out Ms Golightly.
I had a recollection of said lady singing on a White Stripes album and one by the Greenhornes, and being name-checked regularly as a righteous and prolific babe in the serious UK music press, but couldn’t have told you much more about her oeuvre.
To my delight I discovered she is in middle of a serious hillbilly, rootsy phase. She has teamed up with a mightily hirsute bloke he plays a mean slide and pedal steel, and they have cobbled together a songbook full of front porch laments and songs screaming for some jugband accompaniment:
The vibe is very much Deliverance through rose-coloured glasses. The devil is the good guy, and Jesus ain’t no use. Alcohol is Medicine Water and Daddy seems like he’s a little more amorous than he should be.
These two make this genre seem easy and alluring, although there are a few too many lazy tracks in the middle that have me craving some hooch to liven it all up, but the album ends in a flourish and has me craving more woodsy, mountain action.
File under: Damn them gun control laws