***The intersection of hope and resignation can be a disarming place, but also incredibly beautiful. It’s where Oh Smokey, the tenth Clem Snide album, spends a lot of its time. Eef Barzelay, the songwriter behind the name since time immemorial, describes Oh Smokey as “slow, sad songs about God and death,” knowing full well that he’s being technically accurate but wryly incomplete. Like a sleepy late night road trip conversation about a near death experience, the record makes space for some intimate contemplation of what lies beyond. Barzelay wrote these eight songs while upending much of his life. His 25-year marriage dissolved, he parted ways with his longtime manager, and he left his Nashville home after two decades. If you look at it one way, he’s been almost cosmically unlucky in the business, with a big break always around the corner that doesn’t exactly materialize. Seen from another angle, he’s built a dedicated fanbase person by person by creating an improbably timeless body of work, playing living rooms, and even writing personal songs for individual fans. This collection of songs was brought to life with longtime Clem Snide fan Josh Kaufman (Bonny Light Horseman, Craig Finn, Hiss Golden Messenger). Kaufman added color and texture to Barzelay’s compositions, from the gentle sonic shrapnel of album opener “Free” to the organic hum that “At Your Command” rests on to the swelling expansiveness of title track “Smokey,” which was inspired by Eef’s fleeting collaboration with another Clem Snide fan: pop star YEBBA. With...
LP $25.75
10/11/2024
***REISSUED ON VINYL!!! You Were A Diamond is a record that is both haunting and haunted (that cello, the way it mimics the scraping of fragmented skull against fragmented brain). Like paintings done on glass instead of canvas, fragile and yet somehow more luminous. CLEM SNIDE's music is impossible to reduce to a literal description—can’t call it alt-country when there’s a cello, call it lo-fi even though you’re able to hear every note, call it folk, even though there is a predominant electric guitar. All of this adds up to the most unlikely of sonics. Call it CLEM SNIDE. Or maybe call it the missing link between John Cale and Hank Williams. Even the band name, Clem Snide, sounds like a demented Flannery O’Connor character, But it’s actually from a William Burroughs novel. Originally released on CD in 1998 and then again in 2002. Received a 7.9 rating from Pitchfork.
LP $17.75
12/09/2016