In ‘Dandelions’, Yasunari Kawabata speaks of romanticised perspective as “an unexpected patch of blue in a cloudy sky”, but to fall in love with Holy Motors is to seek deliberate light in darkness- tipping our cosmos upside down and repainting the skyline in the thickest brushes of deep-sea-colour.
This is a band building a kingdom full of kaleidoscopic reflections, and their ‘Country Church’ is no fairytale short of a ‘red sky at night, shepherds delight’ love lore.
Guiding balladry through valleys of delightful noodling, the Estonian soundtrack-herders take spirit in wandering and the splendid simplicity of slow-croon-living. Or rather, the mindful art of tenderly hummed nostalgia – like the cloudy kiss of homemade-lemonade trickling in a moment-in-time, traceable trails down the chins of daylight lovers, seeking dusky refreshment during an eternalised summer-solstice on planet Holy Motor.
As Morricone sits down to stargaze in pools of essential dew, a trio of guitars strum proudly from their perch on a blade of straw grass tucked inside the crooked smiled of a daydream-ranger; a psychedelic-cowboy with a penchant for Oakwood-soaked headiness, and an ear for the unseen, in-between.
As far as the mind can evoke, ‘Country Church’ has more heartfelt fuzz than a Pippi Longstocking fantasy – complete with budding candidness, an emblematic white horse companion, and a level of carefree richness. It’s one that can only ever be achieved when twanged inspiration and the smell of rain turning leaves into bloom-soaked lullabies come together to rediscover the poetic playfulness in Spaghetti Western riff-reverie.
Holy Motors release new album Horse on October 16th via Wharf Cat Records.
Header Photo by Grete Ly Valing.
The brand new issue of So Young is out now. SOLD OUT in print but you can read the digital edition below.