Shannon Wright
Dyed In The Wool
(Quarterstick CD)

This is the sound of going insane and liking it. Former front of the indie pop combo Crowsdell, Shannon Wright delivers her third solo musical manifesto, and it’s time we listened up. Part PJ Harvey, part Kristin Hersh, Wright uses her arresting music to rid herself of various demons and damnations. It’s a brutally methodical and riveting process, which at times, threatens to be too much.

Opener "Less Than a Moment" lets you know that this ride is going to be rough but rewarding. The tug-and-pull of the guitar and bass gets beaten on by the drums, and Wright’s sanded yelps just march straight through the pleasing struggle. Tucked in the third slot is "Hinterland"–nothing less than mini-masterpiece, nearly epic in scope and swollen with stormy piano, crashings-a-plenty and Wright’s harrowing wails. The pace slows a bit and the gentle piano and wispy strings allow some requisite respite.

But then Wright starts to creep up again, and it’s clear she’s going right into your brain via your readied ears. "You Hurry Wonder" is painstaking in its glorious despair; the type of struggle with sadness that’s somehow gorgeous and graceful. All smeared and buzzing, "Method of Sleeping" is a slice of sonic insanity, while the following "Surly Demise" recalls the warped folk of Sandy Denny. Darkness returns, the stoic piano, ominous strings, and splattered beats of the instrumental "Colossal Hours" form it into a gothic funeral dirge, "The Sable" is an angry, uncatchable angel taking sweeping slices through the air, and the album closes with the somewhat sprite, 1920s sounding "Bells." Wonderful artistry with a definite brain and delightfully darkened heart. –Scott D. Lewis

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