Eric Bachmann: To the Races

Saddle Creek is at pains to use the word “voluntarily” when they say that Eric Bachmann lived in the back of his van while recording To the Races; whether they mean to emphasize a) what a crazy son of a bitch he is, or b) that he could afford an apartment if he wanted to, I’m not sure. Either way, a folksinger living in his van isn’t exactly a unicorn.

Judging by the music, this was a terribly earnest period of van-bound contemplation for Bachmann. Serious-man-with-acoustic-guitar is a downshift for any listener, and although his compositions are sometimes lovely, they are far from light.

Bachmann is a veteran of two popular indie/rock/folk blenders, the Archers of Loaf and Crooked Fingers. He’s always had a sincerity about him that made his successful songs powerful and his failures all the more embarrassing. He sings in the weary style required by law of all folk practitioners, from Dylan to Dan Brown, although he can also rise up to a truly angelic tone that would have cracked Dylan in half.

I like the darker, spookier material of any artist; with Bachmann, though, he seems so listless and depressed that my favorite track on To the Races is the one that, while not exactly happy, is at least hopeful. “Little Bird,” coming toward to the end of the album, comes off like a prayer; it’s the first time you hear Bachmann’s pain sound like anything other than resignation. It’s a welcome relief and an unexpectedly touching moment in an otherwise dispiriting album.

– Tom Vale
Crooked Fingers (Saddle Creek)