Iron & Wine + Calexico
In The Reins Ep

Imagine an evening at Calexico's house. It had been about three years since the rumor was in the air about a possible collaboration between the Tucson band and the bearded Sam Beam, and the confirmation came to life in September in the form of an EP consisting of seven compositions filled with delicate folk-country harmonies accompanied by Beam's whispered voice.

There's little room for experimentation in this album; the Tex-Mex streak of Burns and Convertino in this case gives way to more "traditional" compositions, bending to acoustic and intimate standards where watercolor shades like those on the cover color the life stories written by the Miami singer-songwriter. Delicate piano hints over an interweaving of guitars open the initial "He Lays In The Reins," a wide ballad that smells of Hot Rail, embellished by the intervention of flamenco singer Salvador Duran. "There's a Prison on Route 41, Home to my father, first cousin, and son, And I visit every weekend Not with my body but with prayers that I send". Among the folk-country rhythms, the steel guitar, a Calexico trademark, accompanies the on-the-road stories murmured by Beam, standing out where there's space or serving the melody in most cases. It's in the compelling "History Of Lovers" that the air of Arizona is most strongly felt; the rhythm rises, enriched by percussion, and a festival of brass contributes to making the progression of the composition even more airy, or in Red Dust, a skewed ballad with a blues flavor, where the voice momentarily gives way to a spaghetti-western base of violins, harmonica, and organ. "Burn That Broken Bed" stands out for the vocal harmonizations; on the slow progression with distant brass as a backdrop, Beam and Burns create a delightful sound amalgam that is a cradle for the ears.

There is also room for a female voice, that of Natalie Wyants, which in "16 Maybe Less" proceeds followed by the singer in a nocturnal excursion under the moonlight created by Joey Burns' guitar. The vocal contribution of the latter is minimal, but even if limited to accompanying by harmonizing the singing, his overlays only enrich the delicacy of these country waltzes, above all the final "Dead's Man Will," a splendid farewell with two voices on a slow walk that reaches the end of this cross-border excursion. The thirty minutes of the album pass quickly, and the final feeling is that of having enjoyed the fruits of an interesting meeting of ideas; bittersweet berries that leave a pleasant melancholic aftertaste in the mouth.