Young Widows / Pelican - Split [7 inch] (Cover Artwork)

Young Widows / Pelican

Young Widows / Pelican: Split [7 inch]

Split [7 inch] (2009)

Temporary Residence


4
With a compelling intro of drums, a droning bass and a creepy guitar tone, "Mid-Western," by the unpredictable Young Widows, seems like a visual-type soundtrack for some sort of terrible, unspeakable beast, tearing through branches and brush, searching -- ready to kill for the feed. Consider the ...

With a compelling intro of drums, a droning bass and a creepy guitar tone, "Mid-Western," by the unpredictable Young Widows, seems like a visual-type soundtrack for some sort of terrible, unspeakable beast, tearing through branches and brush, searching -- ready to kill for the feed.

Consider the lyrics now. Guitarist/vocalist, Evan Patterson has changed up his frequent raspy voice for a looming, yet gruff sound on this track as he groans "Where is the feeling? There is no feeling. You're right I see it, keep on preaching." Soon after, the guitars lash out and the cymbals crash as Evan bellows "The world looks bigger, when you're stuck just in this one place." The Louisville, KY three-piece has yet to relate to such angst, I'm sure, but does so well in describing it, especially when declaring "Cut off our ties to the East."

This is one of Young Widows' darkest tracks, and plays as key that Young Widows have no shape or specifics to their style, except that they never cease to bring a very interesting sound. "Mid-Western" fits perfectly for this split that is Part 3 in a four-part series, as well as acting as a piece in the puzzle that forms the face of a monster that the music must visually suggest.

On the flip-side is the mighty Pelican, who have seem to take a step back into the sludge with "Inch Above Sand." The onslaught starts with an epic spread of guitars that sound very reminiscent of the Isis track, "From Sinking," but then gradually builds a hook, and draws you in, only as Pelican have been known so greatly to do. It seems the band has mastered being so natural with the heaviness, after the somewhat light-hearted City of Echoes, and brings back much of the grittiness and crunch of Pink Mammoth and March Into the Sea.

A very novel similarity between both tracks is that they both end at an abrupt stop, almost at a last gasp of air, and perhaps a metaphor as the last glimpse of life from the prey of the vicious monster's soundtrack.