Lionlimb – Tape Recorder

Stewart Bronaugh and Joshua Jaeger, the artists behind Lionlimb, are exceptionally skilled musicians. That should go without saying given this is an album review, but it’s worth stating plainly. The duo rose to prominence as Angel Olsen’s backing band, matching the warmth and depth of her songwriting with their fluid approach to folk and golden-era AM radio pop. They’ve grown through collaboration, and their work on Lionlimb has been no different.

On Tape Recorder, their second album, they work with a cast of cellists, woodwind and pianists without losing their signature melancholy in the wealth of such instrumentation. Everyone is reading from the same page; on opener Clover, a gorgeous, coiling melody sways through stumbling time signatures, dramatic slow-downs and surprising waves of propulsion. Strings, clarinets, piano and Bronaugh’s withered vocal meld together through it all.

The group have mastered the kind of elegant indie folk that would make a fan of Grizzly Bear or Fleet Foxes blush. Most of Tape Recorder’s six tracks spin their magic for over five minutes, with rarely a lull. From the whispered chorus of Maria through to the caustic climax of the title track, the band’s sturdy compositions captivate. When there is a lull, like on a drawling, despondent first few minutes of Velvet, it breaks the spell somewhat. Bronaugh is alone with his guitar, but the breathy vocal does little to push the tune powerfully towards a full instrumental.

Lionlimb's core strength are their sprawling arrangements, not Elliott Smith worship. Though Bronaugh aims for cathartic balladry, his distant vocal rarely connects as much as his instrumentals do. With a tracklist as tight as Tape Recorder, moments of indulgence are hard to stomach. When a song comes together, though, Lionlimb give their inspirations a run for their money.

Listen to: Maria, Star Spangled