Indie-folk with a battle-worn adult bent? You’ve come to the right place.
I’m a sucker for that hybrid: piano-and-beats tunes sung the neofolk way. Aaron Dessner’s done it for Taylor Swift on ‘Folklore’; he’s also done it with Bon Iver’s Justin Vernon for side outfit Big Red Machine; a host of other names (Magnet comes to mind, also mid-career Elbow) has spun similar yarns-in-sound.
It can’t be just any dramafest set to snazzy samples, by the way. It has to be the world-weary, brooding-Byron, “Streets of Philadelphia”-era Springsteen kind. The kind Koala Bar has (thus far) been churning so well since their inaugural Lilystars single (“Lions,” released towards the latter part of September).
Today is no different. The new Koala Bar single that drops today, “Where the Pitiful Reside,” remains a masterclass in mood and restraint. Considering the lyrical content – one which circles that maddening loop of rejection and isolation – “Pitiful” manages to be both scathing commentary and momentary balm.
And after all, though “that feeling slowly but surely spreads like an incurable virus and takes over your mind,” there are multiple ways a sensation manifests. And in the hands of Koala Bar – singer-guitarists Axel Ploman and Jonatan Duregård; bassist-keyboardist Petter Göransson; drummer-keyboardist Olof Yassin – that feeling manifests not as an all-consuming disappointment, but as a wistful trigger for further introspection.
“The song came to life with Petter just playing a figure on the piano, and then we played with melodies and arrangement in the rehearsal room,” the band shares, adding that while they had already used drum-machine elements in its early stages, producer-collaborator Leon den Engelsen – practically the Aaron Dessner of these proceedings – “made it more organic [by] using samples from our voices [and] wooden-inspired percussion.”
“Where the Pitiful Reside” is a broken beauty, but it’s not a wallower. It’s the pitter-patter during the prelude to a storm; it’s faint, familiar whisky breath on the lips of an old lover; it’s the slow tearing of wet paper. And with lines like “Resentment, like [a] thousand wet chains / It wraps around my head, a vice so strained / A flicker remains somehow / And it’s painted on […] tinted lens,” the melancholy is given the resonance of poetry.
“[The song] is part of the new soundscape [that] emerged from collaborating with Leon. Still dark and gritty but more synth-based, and [displays] a lot more electronic influences,” the band shares in an advance release, adding, “It takes of where ‘Lions’ ends and welcomes you to the deepest of [forests].”
One is tempted to overstate the weight of Leon’s contributions to the equation, but really, the meat is (to coin a phrase) as convincing as the sauce: for one, Axel’s voice, effortlessly captivating, carries the music to realms where it nearly attains the reverence of a heartfelt prayer of surrender. The other members similarly embody refined restraint.
The Swedish outfit’s new Lilystars single is out now. It’s indie-folk with a battle-worn adult bent. Stream it.