Calling themselves The Collective (which is a seemingly simple name yet upon listening, one that perfectly defines this group despite it’s few syllables), these friends of Bison tell us “Someday we will find out what this all actually means”.
Amongst group harmonies, inventive beats, and absolutely perfect use of glockenspiels, David Wimbish’s voice rises above and yet compliments so wonderfully the stories this band chooses to tell.
Sometimes folk music can become just a man and a guitar, when people too closely stick to the definition and what a disservice that can do to the whole of this genre. Not that I don’t love or that we don’t trumpet those bands here because, let’s be honest, when that works, holy shit does it work. But if Wimbish had held true to the typical notion of what this genre is we, as listeners, would have been deprived of the swelling strings and rapturous lady vocals contained on this album and while I’ve no doubt I’d still be listening, I’m not sure I’d be taking the time this early in the morning and before even a full cup of coffee to talk about it.
I write about folk because I love it. I love the familial aspect of the music that this genre can perfectly embody and I love the genealogy of it all. I’ve yet to find it in many other genres and I’ve yet to find it in a majority percent of say, indie rock, and so I gravitate to this. To the collectives and the collections. To bands like this.
The Collection : Lazarus [mp3]