Words by Sean Moeller, Illustration by Johnnie Cluney, Recording engineered by Patrick Stolley at Futureappletree Too
One of the greatest versions of sky, and of day, is just after a serious, violent storm, where the view had gone evil, everything dark and tense. Following these hideous and dangerous fronts often come the most miraculous postscripts. They are bright and clean displays of good, conquering once again. Some mean, pushy weather got to throw a tantrum and it was bullied right back out of town and the sweet and kind citizens had won the day. A lovely byproduct of the outburst was some moisture for their gardens and fields. If the weather isn't too nasty, everything gets put back together fairly quickly. There's no greater blue sky than the cobalt one that finds its way onto the canvas after the lights come back up.
The Apache Relay's newest and greatest, self-titled album is a document that feels like a recovery of the kind described above. Even with so many outstanding whispers of potential love and of uncertain future -- of which the record presents as a theme -- there is a tranquility that rules these wrists and chests. There is a charmingly chill pace to these tales of ache and need and even when everything stirs a bit hotter, lead singer Michael Ford Jr. leads this Nashville-via-New Orleans band to delightfully self-assured quarters. We're always on the chase or being chased and the steps are always heavy and we can sweat them, but we live for that desire.