Roadkill Ghost Choir: Quiet Light

     
          Self-released // 2012
          Dropped by Robert Miller

Music from this album
Roadkill Ghost Choir: “Beggars Guild”

The most peculiar thing about DeLand, Florida’s Roadkill Ghost Choir is just how long it took them to release their Quiet Light EP. As far as I’m aware, this five-track rush of folk-y Americana is nearly a year in the making and was originally intended as a full-length album. I think most of the community really wanted a full-length, too, considering they’ve already released a series of songs before and sort of hyped it up as their debut full-length release. But Quiet Light was done in their own backyard as they sank their own funds into its production, and one listen through is all you’ll need to know where they stand as a local name on the rise.

I said hi to Roadkill’s frontman Andrew Shepard after a recent show they had in Orlando and asked him a couple questions about the EP. The first thing he jumped to was a justification of why Quiet Light became an EP rather than a full length. “We just needed to trim the fat,” Shepard said to me; and you don’t need to tell me twice about “trimming fat,” because when push comes to shove I’d much rather hear five memorable tracks over five memorable tracks crammed between seven other bland fillers. And right from the twangy banjo riff opening on “Beggar’s Guild” as an old-time organ vibrates in its wake, I quickly realize that these songs are more than just a few guys who mashed up The Band with Calexico and called it a day. When Shepard sings full of breath, “So I sleep all day and I dream all night / With the bottle in my hand, I take the devil’s side,” I’m not hearing so much of a formulaic and forced line about imagined hardships, but rather I’m hearing a line of escapism, a line that’s eager to share a uniting expression. I don’t really know the guys in the band, so I suppose I can’t say anything with absolute certainty, but I’ve got a gut feeling that the six or so members aren’t exactly eking out a living by comparison, and haven’t really hit “rock bottom” as they serve us up a platter of grime-encrusted blues. Instead, it seems like they just want to share a story, and they’re great story tellers, lyrically and musically.

The second track, “Drifter,” quickly changes the tone. While a folk aesthetic still edges around the corners via despondant echoing chords and a whining steel guitar, we almost get a Radiohead influence here. With such a large band and such solid production value, these guys are no strangers to layering, and a banjo riffing over a quiet piano, backed by a reassuring tom beat, leading into a reverb-heavy guitar solo isn’t a bad thing by any means. To me, as great as the “Beggar’s Guild” single is, “Drifter” is sort of the crux of the EP—the point at which Roadkill’s appreciation for the past and their roots meets the acknowledgment of where they stand as a band in 2012.

One look at DeLand’s city website and I can already tell where the band’s sound comes from. DeLand is a “small town treasure” where they pride themselves on history and their Historic District. An appreciation for the past seems to run deep in this community, and it’s no mistake that they channel the heart of Neil Young and the soul of the likes of Tom Waits and Leonard Cohen. I’m not saying they’re on par with these American folk titans (how brash!), but the heart and soul is there without a doubt. In an age where even iPods have practically become old news in the world of music listening, Roadkill Ghost Choir are able to acknowledge the unbridled importance of this music’s past for 24 minutes in a way that doesn’t make you feel like you’re listening to dad’s “glory days” speech about Creedence Clearwater.

Shepard breeches into religious territory on “Devout” as he sings, “The mountain called my father near / I took his hand, I shed all fear / True to his heart he raised the blade / No fucking ram ever came,” and with that one choice word, I know that this is no hum-drum retelling of a Sunday school story. This is simply real people, giving their honest takes on what they see, and I don’t know which version of the Bible they were reading, but I think I tend to like their take a little more. “Tarot Youth” continues on with a head-bobbing vibe as the bass line drives on like a relentless foot-stomper. Backed by “Oohs” and “Aahs,” Shepard’s voice sounds like a cleaner and more relaxed Conor Oberst—solo Oberst; not Bright Eyes’ Oberst.

Quiet Light ends on a true folk-like note with “Bird In My Window,” a soft, acoustically driven number where Shepard really plays up his Southern drawl for the chorus’ elongated vowels. It’s atmospheric and pretty, but it’s short and sort of goes by unnoticed compared to the past four songs. It kind of feels like the EP didn’t go out with a bang, but just simply ended. But I wouldn’t count it as a bad thing in any way, seeing as how I was still pretty stunned by “Beggar’s Guild” and had “Devout” stuck in my head by the time the fifth track even rolled along in the first place. All it did was make me eager for that full-length release we’ve been told about for over a year now. So let’s start the clock and see if we’ve got another year in the making. Well played, Roadkill . . . well played.

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Listen to Roadkill Ghost Choir’s Quiet Light EP in full via their Bandcamp: