Lowland Hum
Thin
Reviewed by: Max Miller
Lowland Hum is a self-described art-folk act from Charlottesville, Virginia. The duo is comprised of Daniel and Lauren Goans, a married couple who are seemingly living the dream of “being married to one’s best friend,” assuming best friendship means hopping in a van and touring the country relentlessly. Thin is Lowland Hum’s third full-length, recorded in an attic in Charlottesville and self-produced by the Goans themselves. As evidenced by the slowly-unfolding opener, “Palm Lines,” Thin is an album of lushly-recorded acoustic instrumentation and intricate vocal interplays that sometimes recall Rumours-era Fleetwood Mac, albeit with a happier ending.
Thin feels somehow sparse and massive at the same time. The Goans rarely go too crazy with overdubs, instead opting for subtlety — like the keys and shaker on “Adonai” — and leaving room for, well, the room to contribute its natural ambiance to the ringing acoustic guitars. The theme behind the album seems to be a retreat to internal peace in a world that is often loud and crazy. Amidst exaltations of the simple ways in which love and friendship can lend support to a rickety life on “In Flight,” Lauren and Daniel offer some centering advice: “When the world is ugly and your mind turns black, a walk might be all you need.”
At times, however, Thin feels like a return to basics in a less enlightening way. For all its acoustic brightness, the album often seems to push the folk half of the art-folk equation in ways that make it blend in with the pack. There are moments when the Goans throw in a neat compositional technique that feels fresh, like the seagull-like “da-dum” vocalizations Lauren layers under the chorus of “Family Tree” or the clock-imitating percussion that matches the lyrics on “Folded Flowers.” Overall, though, the album feels very safe.
Safe isn’t necessarily the worst sin Lowland Hum could commit. After all, Thin is very much an album about taking a break from the clutter of the modern world. Conventional though these compositions may sometimes be, they are undeniably beautiful in execution. Sometimes, a walk is all you need — an excursion away from the oppressive weight of life. Other times, though, you need to run headlong into the seething chaos around you. Thin can be there for you in your moments of isolated meditation, but when it comes time for you to return to the struggle, it’s an album you’ll have to leave behind in the attic.
Rating: Listenable
