Winfred E. Eye

Til I Prune

(Antenna Farm)

Record Review by Alex Pudlin

There are two main types of “road” albums. The first serves as a soundtrack for your driving. This type of album provides mood to the wheels turning on the pavement. The other type of road music is best suited for truckers or other folks who need to stay awake while driving. Bay Area folksmen Winfred E. Eye’s fourth album, Til I Prune, is most certainly the former type of road album.  Yes, this is not upbeat music. Til I Prune is best suited for dirt roads that lead into the wilderness. It’s also an album best listened to alone, unless you’re in a relationship where crying is really important to your sustenance. So with all those caveats aside, let’s peer a bit deeper.

The first two songs here a bit misleading. While “Oh So Free” is a snail-paced opener with a Sparklehorse type mutter, “Lil Peck” is a much more upbeat track with jazz-tinged guitar work and a refrain of “Just some stale beer and a little bit of whiskey,” that’s sung in a voice that suggests our vocalist Aaron Calvert has had more than just a little. So it’s not outrageous to initially think that Til I Prune will be a mix of softer, slower numbers and more driving tracks. Well, “Lil Peck” is as fast as this album gets by a long shot. The remaining eleven songs vary between slow and painstakingly slow. At least the bulk of them are border-line gorgeous.

“Sleeping” is a harrowing tale of insomnia ironically placed over a wide of array of soporific sounds: brushed snare drums and rock-a-bye digital-delayed guitar lines. It’s a lovely, somber track that will either warm you up or bring you down from your high. “Packed Up” utilizes a stunning chord progression to paint a miserable tale of joblessness, homelessness, and if that’s not enough, utter existential crisis. “Two Baby Moths” adds a bit of pep to its down-tempo but “His Den” quickly turns the intensity back down to 2.

This isn’t to say Til I Prune is bore. There are plenty of tracks here that throw the listener for a loop. “Toof Hurty” is a rambling ode to dental pain and medication that I wish I after I had my wisdom teeth taken out. And “Sweet Poison” employs some menacing vocals to switch the mood up a bit, even if it’s still a 30 BPM affair.

If you’re a bit of a loner who likes to drive for many hours with your dog slobbering out of the window next to you, Til I Prune could be your favorite album of the year. Even if you’re not this extreme, but have a penchant for tortoise-step Americana soundscapes and bleak lyrics, you’ll fall in love with this album. But if you need energy to your tunes, steer very clear.