This newly minted band in American roots tickles as when rocking one’s bare foot over a patch of sundrenched meadow sprouts.
Just when roots music lovers in Central Florida thought they had feasted on their very best with the prodigious striplings known as Jubal’s Kin, here’s none other than a Kin founding member herself, Gailanne Amundsen, with yet another hearty, oxytocin-fueled mix of her own picking called The Buck Stops Here.
How far can one stretch aural Americana! Can it possibly get any better? Perhaps the buck may indeed stop here as the band summons the likes of Julie Chiles, Shona Carr, and Rebecca Branson Jones for a four-part harmony, multi instrument line backed by bass fiddle player Jeffrey—Gailanne’s younger brother, and a “veteran” at plucking the low notes at age 15.
Let’s suss this out. That mojo of theirs suggest a deeper calling. Most of the band members were tinkering with folksy tunes about the time they began to crawl as toddlers. Years later, knacks meet, their magnetic fields clamp them together and now the rich inland-texture of their performance, never feeling stilted, waxed or encased, flows rather freely into rapture.
That’s it!—grandiosity, with utmost ease and loyalty swaying in live palpitations and verve. Innovation always limited to fresh spice blends without ever compromising the genre’s core flavor. Even a catch along the sisterly accord of their voices recalls the spirits of those who shed their existence back into the soil over which they had once teamed up to live and love, and die and transcend padded in marigold petals.
No hokey glitter here: mainstream purists and neo-mod seekers alike will have their field day with The Buck Stops Here. These musicians are all beautifully timeless, inside out, as they unfurl sharply in tune with the pains and joys of real McCoy America.