• Home
  • About
  • Masthead & Contact Info
  • Advertise
  • News
    • That’s My Dump!
    • Cover Stories
    • Vote or Quit Bitchin’
  • Views
    • Bollardhead
    • Media Mutt
    • One Maniac’s Meat
    • Outta My Yard
    • Letters
    • Corrigan comics
    • Op-eds
    • Cover Story Views
    • Editorials
  • Interviews
  • Food & Booze
    • The Breakfast Serial
    • Fishing In Public
  • Reviews
    • CD Reviews
    • Books & Movies
    • Art
    • Live music reviews
  • Crossword!
  • Podcasts
  • Archives
    • Last Calls
    • 15 Pictures
    • Downtown, Maine
    • The Online Underground
    • The Happiest Hours
    • Newburn comics
    • Off the Eatin’ Path
    • Land of Forgotten Cocktails
    • Cheery Monologues
    • Queerbie
    • Short Films
    • Li’l Spencer’s Adventures
    • TOBY, Robot Satan
    • Tuesday Toons
Browse: Home / CD Reviews, Music / Greg Jamie

Greg Jamie

February 6, 2018

Greg Jamie
Crazy Time
Orindal Records 

Every winter, Mainers get left. The tourists go home. The lobster shacks shutter. And it’s just us, the darkening woods, and the relentless, pounding surf. If this outlook sounds a little bleak, I’m guessing you haven’t listened to Greg Jamie’s new album in the middle of January. On Crazy Time, the Portland singer/songwriter does all he can to evoke those lonely winter days that turn Vacationland into Isolationland. Glacial tempos support vocals delivered with the tentativeness of someone trying not to slip on the cobblestones. The lo-fi production makes the artist sound like he’s crouched next to a space heater, strumming just to keep his fingers warm. And lyrics like “The horses grow thinner with each passing day” don’t exactly bring the sunshine. Yet, in the tradition of depressive auteurs like Sparklehorse and Iron & Wine, Jamie’s imagination provides enough ballast to offset this emotional weight. “Inherit the Wind” sounds like it’s playing in a haunted canyon, with more sonic layers murmuring in the shadows. “Everything Here” buries its bass drum so deep that it sounds like faraway thunder. And on the final track, a clear, aching ballad called “The Lake,” Jamie pulls back on the reverb and the clouds recede. Just a little bit.

— Joe Sweeney

Categories: CD Reviews, Music

« A Pirate Ship Adventure: Snow Day Forêt Endormie »

Departments

Enter your email to subscribe to our RSS feed:

Copyright 2008 The Bollard - all rights reserved