Artists
Mikaela Davis
Five years since her debut album Delivery, Mikaela Davis has moved away from her hometown of Rochester, shared the stage with the likes of Bob Weir, Phil Lesh, Christian McBride, Bon Iver, Lake Street Dive and Circles Around the Sun and entered a new decade. But it’s the ever-evolving relationships between her closest friends and bandmates that has propelled the Hudson Valley-based artist onto her new album And Southern Star––a truly collaborative effort that ruminates on the choices we make, and the people we always come back to.
Davis earned her degree in harp performance at the Crane School of Music, and has molded her classical music training to create an original and genre-bending catalog that weaves together 60s pop-soaked melodies, psychedelia and driving folk rock. She met her bandmates at pivotal moments in her life––drummer Alex Coté in childhood, guitarist Cian McCarthy and bassist Shane McCarthy in college, and steel guitarist Kurt Johnson in her early twenties. It’s the band’s collective step into adulthood that has informed much of And Southern Star’s thematic landscape.
Navigating the periphery of past selves, the coexistence of isolation and excitement in a new environment and the tension of growing away from what we thought we wanted is tackled with a luscious, kaleidoscopic grace. And Southern Star picks apart the reflection we used to recognise, while trying to build a new one. “I finally feel like this album is more me than anything else that’s been released,” Davis says, adding that producing the album along with her four bandmates allowed them to carve out their own ideas, rather than someone else’s. Despite playing together for over a decade, it’s the first time the five-piece have appeared on a full length album together.
The bones of And Southern Star was recorded at Old Soul Studios with Kenny Siegal, a person who was an integral part of Davis’ move to the area. The rest was recorded by Cian McCarthy at Horehound Mansion, adding to the album’s intimate nature. The album was mixed by Mike Fridmann at Tarbox Road Studios, who is lovingly nicknamed as the ‘silent sixth member of the band.’
Davis describes the band’s bond as “meditative and telepathic,” adding that although many of the songs were written individually across the past few years, something instantly clicked once they were together. Opener “Cinderella,” written by Coté and Davis, begins with Davis’ distinctive harp plucks and ethereal vocals. It’s a sonic choice that directly points to Davis’ solo beginnings, before blossoming into the textural patchwork of the band’s contributions. The fairytale wanderings of the song peel back in the album’s dream-like canopy, where tracks offer an otherworldly escape from the constraints of reality.
The album, however, doesn’t shy away from the very real, lingering fog of solitude and uncertainty that comes with entering new chapters. “Far From You,” written by brothers Cian and Shane McCarthy, introduces a stark spotlight, with ghostly vocals and gentle piano accompanying the weight of loss. “Oh but if I was to meet you in the moonlight,” Davis laments before the song offers a tentative optimism through a stirring, psychedelic instrumental outro, written by Davis, that’s full of bright percussion and driving harp and guitar. This optimism lingers on “Home in the Country,” also written by Cian McCarthy, where rousing harmonies and honky-tonk frills encourage us to seek out the blue skies beyond the heavy clouds.
“Promise” was crafted by Davis and Coté years ago as she was illustrating the pains of a close friend, but soon found herself relating it to her own life. Like the evolutionary tint of the album’s scenery, And Southern Star reckons with the changes that creep into a hairpin bend. “The Pearl” is there to anchor these dizzying shifts, as steel guitar and glittering harp creates a frame around the core-memories that shaped us. “You will always feel like that inner child,” Davis explains. “Sometimes you’ll forget about them but then it hits you.”
And Southern Star is an album that toes the liminal space of growing into ourselves, while tugging at parts of the past that we’re desperate to keep. Moving forward, and accepting change, is one of the most painful parts of renewal and we can often find ourselves stuck in the difficulty of it all. Davis, along with her band, understands that while these bumps may hurt at first, they’re not forever and just like the message of album track “Saturday Morning”: sometimes “the illusion of darkness breaks its spell.”
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Jeffrey Silverstein
"Cosmic country with a gentle sweetness, reminiscent of Beachwood Sparks and Silver Jews at their twangiest." - NPR Music
Jeffrey Silverstein’s new EP Roseway is named after the quiet, tree-lined neighborhood in Northeast Portland where the guitarist and songwriter lives. “My drive home from my teaching job is all uphill,” he says. “You kind of crest over this ridge to get to where you want to go. Every moment that happens to me, I just have this sense of ease once I get to the top.” That sense of relief–the feeling of completing a tough journey—animates the six relaxed and meditative songs here. While half of the tracks are pastoral ambient instrumentals and half are plainspoken lyrical numbers with ample twang and groove, each captures Silverstein’s striking comfort with his voice, his process, and his role as a bandleader. To him, these songs feel like home. It’s New Age for the everyman: more cosmic than country and more accessible than esoteric. This is what cosmic country sounds like in 2024.
This EP picks up where his artistic breakthrough and 2023 full-length Western Sky Music left off. A reinvention for Silverstein that traded homespun solo recordings for an expansive full-band sound, the LP was acclaimed by outlets like Aquarium Drunkard and The Portland Mercury, who praised its, “cosmic country and shimmering Americana that feels like a significant step forward from his previous work.” On Roseway, he reunites with his Western Sky Music rhythm section in drummer Dana Buoy (Akron/Family) and bassist Alex Chapman and enlists pedal steel player Connor Gallaher (Anna St. Louis, Lana Del Rey) to flesh out the songs. “I always view EPs as moments to try things and experiment,” says Silverstein. “Building this trust and communication with Alex and Dana has made for a wonderful partnership and helped me take risks I normally wouldn’t.”
Recorded with Ryan Oxford (Y La Bamba, Rose City Band), Roseway boasts an eclectic and exploratory palate. Songs like the inviting and laid-back “Gassed Up” find Silverstein adding country-funk grooves over inviting, spaced-out lyrics. Atop a buoyant bass line from Chapman, Silverstein sings, “You’re gassed up / You gotta go / You’re not lonely / You’re just Alone.” It recalls JJ Cale at his swampiest. “I’m always thinking about how you can incorporate more of a boogie and groove with the twang,” says Silverstein. Even at its twangiest, Roseway never feels like a throwback or a retread. Instead, it pushes these signifiers into headier territory. Take the instrumental “Headcleaner,” which takes on a krautrock-inspired haze. Elsewhere, single “Cog In the Wheel” takes on a nomadic search for good vibes. He sings, “I’ve been cruisin’ / such a long time / Never want to settle down.” That track is a balm that feels like getting closer to a destination.
The vinyl version of Roseway features a b-side that includes the first pressing of Silverstein’s 2021 EP Torii Gates. “That kind of makes this a split release with myself,” he jokes. The pairing is intentional and important, however. Also recorded with Oxford and featured Chapman on bass, that release found Silverstein beginning to branch out from solo fare to a full band. Here, much of the material is anchored by a drum machine: It was an exercise in appreciating small moments and being comfortable with transitional periods. While the songs are cozy, hypnotic, and compelling, there’s a tension in how they feel like the starting point to a reinvention. On highlight “Soft Lens,” he sings, "Stuck outside the Torii Gates / tired of hearing you have to wait." When he wrote that song, that gate was a metaphor for his own musical journey.
Taken together, these two EPs feel like a bridge to each other: a document of an artist cresting the hill of his process and vision. It’s a record of contemplation and comfort, not of prescription and platitudes. Roseway opens with the raw and ramshackle “Countryside,” which finds Silverstein singing, “If there’s a gate / I’m passing through / If there’s a light / It’s shining blue.” The line is both the North Star of Roseway and a testament to how far Silverstein has come threading disparate worlds and finding his voice. “I’ve learned to be cool with things not working and failing and loving all of that,” he says. “It’s all about accepting that part of the process. I love imperfect music. I love songs where you hear the wrong notes. I don't want to muddy anything up too much and get out of my way.”
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