Dawes & First Aid Kit

While the city of Los Angeles has been both an inspiration and a home to the four members of Dawes, they found themselves traveling East last fall to record their third album in the Blue Ridge Mountains of North Carolina with newly enlisted producer Jacquire King. It was a chance to hunker down and work each day for a month away from familiar landmarks and routines. The tracks they laid down at Asheville's Echo Mountain Studio have yielded a 12-song disc of tremendous sonic and narrative clarity, book-ended in classic album fashion by two very different versions of the wistful "Just Beneath The Surface" – a misleading title, really, since the songs stacked in between dig so deep. Stories Don't End is not so much a departure from the quartet's previous efforts as a distillation of them. It spotlights the group's maturing skills as arrangers, performers and interpreters who shape the raw material supplied by chief songwriter and lead vocalist Taylor Goldsmith into an artfully concise and increasingly soulful sound.

Once again, Goldsmith displays a particular gift for tunes that balance tough and tender, hardboiled and heartbroken. As a writer, he prowls his psyche like a forties detective, looking for clues to the mysteries of life and love. "Just My Luck" has the irresistible pull of a vintage country tune, though the arrangement is understated and contemporary. If Goldsmith's vocal delivery weren't plaintive enough, the band ups the emotional ante with a beautiful wordless coda that intertwines Tay Strathairn's piano and Goldsmith's lead guitar. Similarly "Something In Common" is a morning-after shuffle that builds into a bigger and more dramatic track before dropping back to a quiet melancholic finish. Goldsmith takes a few simple words, like "something in common," and uses them like chapter headings to develop a compelling story, full of unexpected twists, from verse to verse. "Someone Will" includes the same kind of word play while boasting a little more swagger. "Hey Lover," a cover of a tongue-in-cheek tune by Dawes' good buddy Blake Mills, is a playful mid-album break with Taylor Goldsmith and his young brother, drummer Griffin Goldsmith, trading off lead vocals.

Before he started composing for the album, says Taylor, "I went through a Joan Didion tear." It was right after he read the legendary author's Democracy that he found the title, Stories Don't End, in her work. Though Didion is currently a New Yorker, she is most associated with Southern California, its culture of the sixties and seventies, a subject she examined in gimlet-eyed prose. When Goldsmith started penning new songs after several months on the road in support of Dawes' 2011 disc, Nothing Is Wrong, his writing was even more keenly observant. "From a Window Seat" was the first he completed and, he admits, "It's a very singular song. A lot of the songs on the record can be a little more broad, about a period in someone's life or trying to explore a certain feeling. This song is about a specific experience of being on an airplane and that's not a very poetic or lyrical idea." Yet Goldsmith, employing an accumulation of small details, once again finds the bigger picture, about the narrator's past and his (and our) uncertain future, about the history lurking beneath the swimming pool-dotted landscape below him. Just as important is the track itself -- lean, propulsive and guitar-driven – lending urgency to Goldsmith's in-flight musings. Similarly, "Bear Witness," a last-minute addition to the lineup that the band arranged during the Asheville sessions, is an almost cinematically vivid rendering of a man having a conversation with his child from his hospital bed.

Nothing Is Wrong had garnered considerable acclaim, with London's Independent declaring, "It's as close to a perfect Americana album as there's been this year." Up to then, the band had relied on good friend Jonathan Wilson as producer, cutting its 2009 debut disc, North Hills, at Wilson's Laurel Canyon studio and its follow-up with Wilson at a larger room in Echo Park. But Wilson's own career as a solo artist was taking off following the release of his Gentle Spirit disc, and the band began a search for a new collaborator. King boasted an impressive and unusual resume, having produced an eclectic range of artists, including Kings of Leon, Modest Mouse, Norah Jones and the Punch Brothers. Says keyboardist Strathairn, "He's really easy to work with. As a producer he doesn't want to be the artist, he simply tries to make the band sound the best that the band can be. And the work speaks for itself."

Recording with King and foregoing the quickly cut, straight-to-analog tape approach of its first two recordings was a way, says Taylor, for Dawes "to push the boundaries of what might be expected of us, or feel like a comfort zone for us, while trying to be the same band we always are. That was important to us. We didn't want to abandon anybody's sense of who we were and, more importantly, our sense of ourselves. We wanted to stay true to this thing that we had while starting to widen the spectrum a little bit."

The reprise of "Just Beneath the Surface" at the end of the disc, however, is a first-take document of the band figuring out the tune together, and it was too good not to keep. As bassist Wylie Gelber recalls, "We knew the vibe we were going for and we were running through it while Jacquire was setting up. But we were completely unaware that he was recording us. We were fooling around and towards the end of it, we stopped for a minute and Jacquire said, Hey man, I think we've got it. We tried to beat that take but we couldn't. You can hear it there, you can feel that it's the first time it's being played, it's a simple song and there's a subtle art to doing it. It ebbs and flows."

"With Jacquire," explains Taylor, "we were able to hold on to an essence of what we had been, but I feel now, more than with our first two records, that this makes a case that we're a band from 2013. There a lot of bands that harken back to a period or style of a different time and that can be really limiting. That was never our intention."

"The album is very honest," concludes Strathairn. "It's us."


Bittersweet is the word the Söderberg sisters prefer. "We like bittersweet songs, songs that affect you differently depending on how you interpret them," says Klara, the younger of the Swedish siblings that make up First Aid Kit. "Making the melodies and lyrics head in different directions is very deliberate," adds big sister Johanna. "A song like 'Emmylou' sounds cheerful, but the lyrics are the saddest thing you ever heard." First Aid Kit's first US-recorded album, The Lion's Roar, juxtaposes sadness and beauty in the best traditions of folk and country music. They even cite the Louvin Brothers' cheerfully brutal version of the old murder ballad "Knoxville Girl" as the perfect example of the sweet and sour they adore. And this new carefully constructed collection deftly succeeds in setting references to their hometown of Stockholm and long, dark Scandinavian winters against a backdrop of country-rock swing. Initially signed in 2008 by The Knife-owned label Rabid Records (they are now signed to Wichita), First Aid Kit have gone from faraway teenage fans covering Fleet Foxes for fun to recording a Blue Series 7-Inch single of Buffy Sainte-Marie's "Universal Soldier" with Jack White at his request in his Nashville, TN Third Man Studios. "I think of it now as like a dream, too good to be true," says Johanna of the session, happily and hurriedly squeezed into last autumn's tour schedule. Where 2010's debut The Big Black and the Blue was starkly intimate, The Lion's Roar, recorded in Omaha by Mike Mogis (Bright Eyes, millions more), is a full band record. The girls' father Benkt takes the bass, Mattias Bergqvist drums, while Mogis and Nate Walcott of Bright Eyes, and a cast of Omaha-based musicians round out the sound. From the dynamic title track onwards, the album is a rich and stirring affair that expands upon the keen and sophisticated country-tinged pop of their debut. "Emmylou" name-checks such greats as Gram Parsons, Johnny Cash, June Carter, and of course Ms. Harris, yet for all its upbeat appeal, it recognizes the sadness in the lives and art of these heroes. "We've listened to those people for a very long time. We hadn't even toured America when we started writing that song," confesses Johanna. "We actually finished it in Australia," adds Klara. The gorgeous, timeless "In The Hearts Of Men" adds mellotron alongside more expected textures. "My duality awakes," sings Klara in the lush, knowing "I Found a Way". The exquisite "Dance to Another Tune" perfectly conjures a haunting sense of unease, while the lovely, steady cadence of "This Old Routine" tells a plaintive, yet redemptive, tale of loves lost and re-found. "To A Poet" opens side two, so to speak, and its elegant coda, featuring a string quartet arranged by Walcott, particularly impressed the Söderbergs. "We recorded our last record at home. We couldn't even have fit them all in," says Klara. Despite its lonesome sound, "New Year's Eve" – all distant reverb and atmospherics – is "actually very hopeful". Finally the exuberant hoedown of 'King of the World' features The Felice Brothers, just passing through town during the session, and local hero Conor Oberst, who sings the last verse. "We'd never worked with a producer before," says Johanna. "Yet we never disagreed with Mike about anything." The resulting record is serious fun, yet First Aid Kit are only starting. "We want to work in music forever. Our voices and songs could work in many genres," says Johanna, "We don't know how we'll sound in ten years time." But which do they prefer singing, sad or happy songs? They roar with laughter. "We only sing sad songs." There will never be a shortage of those, and in First Aid Kit's hands, they will always sound nothing short of glorious.