mildred: Fenceline

23

I’m from the West but I’m not from the West. Same goes for Mildred, a band from Oakland, a mere 400 miles north of where I grew up. Though their languid folksy rock music hardly sounds like the Oakland of my youth. That’s Too $hort, Hammer and Digital Underground on the one side and Green Day and Rancid on the other. Mildred are none of these. But, if we look to the far-away land of Stockton, a mere 70 miles due east, you’ll find their most directly aligned comp, Pavement. The loose, esoteric lyrics and the languid slacker drawl — even while they’re throwing in a little jazzy stuff and a big dash of Eagles-style Cali Americana.

I know that’s a lot to throw at you at once. Directions and comps and pop punk and indie rock and alt-country. So many labels and tags. Let me throw one more at you: Cameron Winter. Yes, the everything-all-at-once lead singer of industry plants Geese. When track one on Fenceline hit my speakers and the singer’s funky voice spun up, my mind went immediately to Winter’s debut, Heavy Metal. There’s something about the quality of his voice and delivery that felt immediately similar. Even if the two don’t necessarily sound exactly the same. Granted, I did listen to that album an unhealthy amount last year. And Mildred definitely — at least based on this initial track — spin little down-home ditties that will feel very familiar to fans of Silver Jews or, perhaps, a way more simple Mountain Goats. The good thing, I suppose, is that if you don’t like the singing voice on the first track — and it is very specific — you get a completely different singer on the second one. A much more traditional, but equally lovely, voice. I know everything is coming up MJ Lenderman these days, but it is certainly in the vein of his Manning Fireworks album. I’m sure they’d take that.

The album oscillates between more up-tempo alt-country tunes and even some classic jazzier slower tracks. Where I draw the line between alt-country and indie folk, I’ve no idea, but the band themselves have kind of branded themselves that way. I don’t totally hear it — my assumption being that folk tunes talk about hating war and free love and shit. But I have a pretty narrow view of what’s what. I suppose tunes like “Fleet Week” that feel intentionally old-fashioned and American down-home could qualify as folk. But, nah, that ain’t it. I guess the next track, “Aquinas,” which sounds a little more like cool shoegaze tent revival music is more like it? Granted, I’ve never been to a tent revival and hardly know anything about that stuff, but it feels vaguely like what I imagine some depressed preacher with an angry snake might put together before jumping into the void. The songs do begin to slow down quite a bit and get a little less tuneful as the album progresses, but if you’ve ever gone deep on a Pinegrove album or been there right before closing time at a honky tonk, you might feel the vibes. It’s a good little record and I’m excited to see what their sophomore effort brings. Given how I understand their process of recording this album worked, I have a feeling there might either be a bit of a u-turn or a slightly updated sound next time around. We shall see.