By Todd Lavoie
SOUTHEAST ENGINE
From The Forest To The Sea
(Misra)
It’s all right there in the title: From The Forest To The Sea, the fourth, just-released full-length from Athens, Ohio-based Southeast Engine, is the chronicle of a journey. Literal, figurative, geographical, spiritual… it’s all of the above, rendered in nervy poetry, Biblical allusions, and volatile collisions of twisted Americana and restless indie-rock. Sure, the disc’s characters begin in the forest and end up at the edge of the sea — and in some cases, quite literally in the sea — but ultimately their movement is focused around much more than mere topography. Vocalist/guitarist Adam Remnant is not only a compelling singer — his quivering Appalachian yelp is perhaps the midpoint between Will Oldham (Bonnie “Prince” Billy) and Jason Molina (Songs:Ohia, Magnolia Electric Co.) — but also a perceptive, precise storyteller, equally confident in clipped speech and extended, flowing narrative.
His subjects tend to be good people at their core, but not without their share of weaknesses, foibles, and lack of direction. Sin and salvation, along with all of the roaming which tends to go on between the two extremes, form the central themes of the disc, and they are presented without judgment and in clear, matter-of-fact detail. And just in case the potent storytelling here isn’t enough: these guys furnish a rather resplendently rustic sonic backdrop for Remnant’s redemption-seeking rambles. For all of its occasional echoes of other lonesome-howl enthusiasts — the aforementioned Oldham and Molina ventures, as well as Phosphorescent and maybe Castanets — From The Forest To The Sea offers up a distinct essence of its own. Distinctive enough, I should add, that I can’t wait to dive into their back-catalog….
Southeast Engine, “Black Gold”
Southeast Engine recorded the disc in a creaky, abandoned middle-school auditorium, built in the 1800s, in the hills of rural Ohio — a fitting choice, given that these songs appear to be populated by ghosts as well. Listen closely, and the odd atmospheric hum slides into perception, only to drift away as soon as the ears are pricked; once the moment is almost forgotten, a disembodied echo or a floorboard-sigh is just as likely to emerge. As much as these production touches give a nice chill, it’s in the voices that the true goosebump potential resides. Remnant is quite adept at conjuring ghosts with his taut, choked waver, and the haunted backup supplied by the rest of the band does a convincing job of highlighting the restlessness which permeates these dozen songs.