"Owl Creek Blues", the new single from Blue Tomorrows, is a spectral postcard sent from two geologically unique spots, a world both personal and endless. Recorded in Portland, Oregon, and finished after a move to northwest Wisconsin, it bears the calm heartbeat of progress, of stories settling into novel, fresh soil.
At the point when the track starts, it scarcely sounds like anything by any stretch of the imagination tape relics, old instruments tremor with age-old life tales, and the air appears to shiver with the muffled glow of simple imperfection. Blue Tomorrows cast a thoughtful spell where a tender acoustic plucking meets overspeeding electronics, rare guitars float in a hazy remove, and layers of reverb radiate upwards like fog from a midnight stream. It is a progressively patched arrangement, fragile, intentional, and phenomenally human. Revolved around the scope of an upright piano, the gravity of the human voice, "Owl Creek Blues" drifts somewhere close to the tangible and the vague. Swaying back and forth through emptiness and size, the melody does not reveal itself, it rises, gradually unrolling into life’s tenderness and magnanimity. In each note stands a spot, not just a spot on the planet, but a place in the soulful landscape. You can hear the ghost of void rooms, the heft of calm places, and the comfy murmuring of finding a new stability after separation.
With "Owl Creek Blues", Blue Tomorrows builds a sound that feels like recollection scratched out yet luminescently distinct. Far from being a blues in the classical sense, the piece is a muse on motion, deprivation, and continuity.