That said, codes eventually broken reveal rich texture. Arrive is Cox's solo debut and it plays like a quiet, unassuming song cycle about people stuck with their lives. The girl waiting for the phone to ring on the album's opener, "The Milk Song," is the same damsel in existential limbo on "Confession #87." She'll eventually find the car keys, but by then will have forgotten where she's going.
Cox's a cappella cover of Richard Buckner's "Fater" captures the lament's timeless doom and points up inevitable comparisons to Gillian Welch, with whom she shares more than a few quivering phrasing tics. Even the optimism of the album's closing title track sounds carefully measured in its glee.
Then again, that's tradition calling: Who writes folk songs about better days? And what struggling troubadour would have such blind faith as to believe those days come without serious strings attached?
Any intel about this Project Pabst festival that I scheduled for 10/1?
This does not take about The Chirch at all.
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