‘Tinfoil on The Windows’ will be, for a lot of readers, the first time you’ve heard of a musician/poet/public addresser who goes by the name of, Soso. But one can rest assured that this Canadian is fully aware that “that local hero shit is wack”.
Falling somewhere between country, alt rock and the softly spoken word Soso manages to encapsulate thoughts we’ve all run through hundreds of times before in that sludgy mush we’ve got inside our respective skull pieces. His home truths and intriguing thought processes melt willfully into your ears and being left with shuddering ear lobes, perky arm hairs and cold elbows has never felt so damn good.
Opting for a co-operative approach to the production has delivered a sparse brutality to the album as indie-rock’s Maybe Smith lends his delicacy and guitar dalliances to the project. Its easy after a few listens to compare the depth of lyricism and musical tonality to the latter work of one Buck 65, (a fellow Canadian with a penchant for hushed whispers and country music), but it seems to be the propulsion of Smith’s melodies that forces ‘Tinfoil…’ up and out of the ‘alternative’ art rap quagmire.
With enough strength to keep you reeling for hours this album worked best after a two hour coach journey; tired and hungover, heavily exalting and paying close attention to words and textures the constructions appeared and made complete sense. I really could write for days about how relevant the slow chug of ‘All The Useless Things These Hands Have Done’ felt passing through London’s Saturday melee with an unwashed forehead pressed against the cold glass of a window.
‘Company of Chairs’ and ‘One Eye Open’ are two of the strongest cuts on here, as they give Soso the space to unleash some achingly personal words before he begins to croon in his over kilter, half sung strains. ‘Tinfoil…’ is an album that fuses enchanting prose with long washes of instrumentation and it’s within this albums latter tracks that you might, actually find something that really penetrates your conscious thoughts.
Werd.
Wordmaster, 3 Bar Fire
November 13, 2007