The second full length release from RUBY HOWL sees the band take their self proclaimed ‘banjo noir’ into increasingly sinister and gothic directions. The success of these excursions is mainly due to the harrowing vocals of Laurie Hall. With the band ditching their Americana references to become a more a rock orientated beast (and beast is the right word; these songs practically prowl after the listener), Laurie Hall is able to appear distressingly vulnerable throughout the album.
Hall writhes her way through the record with a grieving intensity that would make Lady Havisham blush. It’s easy to spot the theatrical influence of Kate Bush, especially on first track Joey which sees Hall repeating “I ain’t missing you” over an accompaniment that sounds like the brass section from Dylan’s Rainy Day Women on a death march. It’s a sinister and startling performance. Hall fills her voice with a fragile vibrato but still manages to be as precise as a pin head. It’s frightening and captivating in equal measure. At one point she even manages to make the word “armadillo” sound vaguely sexy which is pretty astonishing.
The fact that she only sings around two thirds of HEAVEN HIDES THERE TOO makes the record a bit of a frustrating listen. The rest of the vocal duties are taken up by Patrick Kadyk who possesses a powerful and emotive country voice but lacks the uniqueness of Hall. Even in moments where his falsetto sounds eerily similar to his band mate’s we’re left craving Hall’s almost otherworldly presence. Unfortunately Kadyk’s appearances on lead vocals never feel more than a distraction from the main event.
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Although this gives the album a bit of an uneven tone there are some great moments, particularly in the first half which culminates with Goliath. Here Hall’s vocals are put to perfect use through double tracking. The song begins in unison but the harmony becomes more separate and freewheeling as the song progresses, creating a sense of unravelling that takes a haunting love song into areas far more menacing and tense.
After the prevailingly dark mood the album ends in a slightly more upbeat fashion with Fare Thee Well. A banjo led double speed waltz which has a gorgeous lilting quality until it becomes violently severed by screeching electric guitars and trumpets. Still, there’s a glimmer of hope and acceptance inherent to the record’s ending which makes the album feel like a real journey. This is an album that aims to take the listener to an entirely different place and despite some unnecessary detours in the addition of Kadyk’s lead vocals, on the whole, it achieves its goal. Just don’t expect the trip to be entirely pleasant.
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