Canyon
Empty Rooms

"I'm sure you'll love it," said the soul that placed this CD in my hands.
I, with a goofy smile (the generosity of this soul always manages to surprise me), examined the matter:
1) "And who is she?" - well, it's impossible not to notice first the simple yet sophisticated beauty of the young woman on the cover. Simple and sophisticated; indeed.
2) "But what are they called?" - Canyon. Ah well, they're Americans then. And maybe they do alt-country; indeed.
3) "Label?" - Wichita Recordings (2002). Ah well, Bright Eyes, Weevil, Euros Childs etc; indeed.

I proceed to listen, and inside the "Empty Rooms" I find some spacious country ballads, imbued with slow psychedelia, American in a very full sense: one that unites the melodies and arrangements of the great tradition with the subtle taste of the current sweet-and-sour indie-lofi.

And so Sleepwalker (besides reminding me, ironically, of the post-rock atmospheres of the Canadians Apostle Of Hustle with the almost homonymous Sleepwalking Ballad) is the best example of their ability to create luxurious spaces, colored by clear guitars and a magnetic voice; while Head Above floats - sparse and intimate - in the manner of the best Death Cab For Cutie, only to end - intimate but distorted - in the manner of Wilco.

Combining the inspired melodies of the old Neil (Radio Driver) with the solemn catharsis of Low (the final, touching Blankets And Shields), this album is simple and sophisticated, like the beautiful young lady in the photo; unfortunately, the first question remains unanswered...