Shannon Lay - August

With a series of three solo albums over the past four years, songwriter and guitarist Shannon Lay has revealed a greater depth of confidence each time out.  Not unlike the albums’ covers that have progressed from only a characteristic wisp of orange hair to a huddled profile, to upcoming August’s straight on unfussy head shot.  Already proving herself an accomplished finger-picker on her earlier works apart from the punkier confines of her band, Feels, Lay focuses on more fleshed out vocals and fuller production with solid results.  Co-production credits to buddy Ty Segall and assists from some of their collective bandmates certainly come to bear as well.

Even though August crams a dozen songs in just over thirty minutes, it is never hurried and still manages to run the gamut from traditional-sounding folk songs to ones that push expected boundaries ala Fairport Convention’s approach.  The opening ‘Death Up Close’ opens with Lay’s intent picking and a vocal tinged with some level of trepidation as the title invokes.  But taking a step forward Lay is joined by Mikal Cronin’s meandering sax line and then fellow Feeler Laena Geronimo on strings.  Early album highlight ‘Nowhere’ ends up showcasing the album’s range within a three-minute construct.  Starting as a simple rumination on nothingness it quickly builds to encompass a thunder of drums, garage-y organ, handclaps, and Lay pulling out the stops with an impassioned vocal delivery.  A tinge of San Francisco’s psychedelia without the histrionics, while also showing the excitement Lay brings to bear fronting a full band. 

Allowing a bit of a breather, a trio of Lay’s most delicate songs are offered up.  The first of these will lay the listener bare - ‘November’ is both a reminisce of Nick Drake’s too brief life, but Lay directs the song to Drake’s mother Molly.  Laced through with Geronimo’s mournful violin and Lay’s wish that Drake’s trials are “done and gone”, ‘November’ hits its empathetic mark.  ‘Shuffling Stoned’ deals with far less serious stakes, but Lay’s confident whisper of a tale of crate-digging surrounded by a whiff of weed is rooted in nostalgia.  While the ‘John Henry’ sounding “hammer ring” of Lay’s acoustic guitar makes the perfect accompaniment for a tribute to her grandmother’s by-gone era and a sly vocal earworm by twisting the word “crazy” on ‘Past Time’. 

The latter half of the album similarly goes between sparer takes and those that are more instrumentally and vocally involved.  ‘Sunday Sundown’ makes for a fitting companion to Drake’s rising ‘Pink Moon’, while the sorcery of Lay’s vocal and next level picking on ‘Unconditional’ casts a mesmerizing spell.  The tangled electric guitar of ‘August’ recalls one of Richard Thompson’s leads that weave recklessly between Geronimo’s violin and Nick Murray’s drums.  And two minutes of perfection are achieved on a lightly psyched and sparkling cover of ‘Something On Your Mind’.

August the album and 'August' the song are ultimately a celebration of Lay’s two year’s full immersion in her craft.  The most stifling of months doesn’t logically seem one for new beginnings, but Lay took up the call when it came.  And like the slow reveal of her albums’ covers, the rotation that August takes uncovers further facets of Lay’s talent as songwriter, player, and bandleader.  All done with the resolute confidence of having found one’s proper path.