The Deep Dark Woods’ newest album Yarrow was borne in a fever – scarlet fever, to be medically specific. A disease of the last century is a fitting backdrop for songs that unearth the corpses of old English folk and country blues. It is Deep Dark Woods reimagined by leadman Ryan Boldt, accompanied by the same band that crafted prairie psychedelics and a «loose grungy folk sound» (Paste) for flannelites. For nearly ten years they developed an international following with particular success in the Americana realm. Now wrest out of the woods, their outlook is decidedly more macabre, tapping into a rich vein of gothic surrealism that aligns with some of the great murder balladeers of our time. With Appalachian soil under his fingernails, Boldt writes in a deep tradition of bleak and forlorn storytelling, drawing lines from Ireland to Tennessee, the Oxford Girl to Folsom Prison. In Yarrow, there's a juicy unease to frontman Boldt's presence, as if a new door has opened to let loose the weirdness. In place of the freewheelin' jammy vibe there's a darker, stranger tenor that sides with modern mystics whose music exists in the creepier, freakier corners of existence.
The music of Oxlip's Jayne Trimble is traditional folk with a twist of the psychedelic; a mix of flatpicking and fingerstyle guitar with pure vocals reminiscent of British female folk pioneers of the ’60s. Echoing sounds of the Appalachia and traditional ballads, her lyrics are rich and honest, and her melodies, surreal and haunting.