GutterPutter

Little Boy Velvet is the main musical project of an anonymous Ohio artist (at the time of writing that is) with a pretty prolific discography already. Despite having started releasing some music in 2018, he has already released a whopping 38 records on there and with an archive for some of his works in 2016, goodness knows whether he had a past account that he forgot the login details for. While he already has a wide amount of output, there are some similar patterns to point to. That being his fondness of home-made production and the rusty retro-emulation of hypnagogic pop.

MOONSHINER is his latest album, released from Bandcamp on New Year’s Day without a description to get the main idea on what it’s about. There might be no impression to bear in mind on what the album is deliberately set out to be on, listening to the record in its entirety could give you a good enough clue on what the conceptual theme is. From the prominent sample of a classic pop song in ‘Yesterday Today and Tomorrow’ and ‘Pinhead Gunpowder’ to the R&B beginning (bear this in mind later on, it’ll be a point of critique) of ‘Parsons Desk’ or ‘Devil Here All the Time’ with the sole clapping, all attention is given to aged music. 

Delve a bit deeper into the lyrics of the mentioned songs and you’ll find that they also share a common ground. One takes the perspective of a depressed individual who implicitly yearns for their old friends before ending it all with a gun. Another, a bored blue-collar worker who finds their role to erode their sense of individuality. Now, expand that into other songs. ‘Sacred Children’ has a hauntingly bittersweet sense of nostalgia with a largely guitar-led style of folk music and a muted, unimpressive vocal performance that is authentic nonetheless. ‘Moonville’ has a twangy impression of a country song that laments at the slow decay of remembering your family history. ‘littlest’ sets the singing down on a fuzzy lo-fi warmth in the bid to reconnect with loved ones, namely ancestors, with a ghastly piano to cap the album. 

The direction is pretty clear – the main focus of MOONSHINER is on memory and personal experiences. It aims to make you think about your relatives and the times that you once spent with them before their passing, especially with the older side, and it makes you recall past relationships that you are now over with, but had come with changes made on your perspective. The lyrics themselves are largely hit-and-miss in trying to elicit this impression. One song in ‘JK’ has a strong sentimental impression on our relationship with our past homes while ‘Please Say Hi’ feels like a meh-ish draft for an emo song that feels too wordy without a good sense of poetry. ‘Horses’, standing out initially because the lyrics are by Leo Friberg (a.k.a. PLinteous), are especially lacklustre. While the vocal harmony feels withered in remembering how time can go by quickly, the titular symbol lacks impact on delivery and, in the attempt to emit a Freudian kind of yonder for freedom, it instead comes off as nonsense.

Among the biggest problems in the album are its abrupt genre changes which makes it inconsistent and incoherent. ‘Silver to Black’ switches from the previously said old sample to a modernised indie pop attempt at highlighting a mourning of a lost love. The bad news for that is that the chorus feels “corny” in its attempt to drive home the heartbreak: “now when i cry, i don’t cry tears, i cry diamonds and crystals” feels awfully melodramatic and comes back around to the lyrical issue of there being no sense of when it’s time to use less words for more impact. As a result, it comes off as a bad attempt at a whiny emo pop song. ‘True Ballad’ goes the way of ambient pop which sounds so modern that it fails to fit with the hauntological subject of the song which is on an idealised return to the birthplace of Seattle. This is a tad bit more common thanks in part to ‘Parsons Desk’ and ‘Pinhead Gunpowder’ marking the turn towards alternative R&B which throws off all impression of focus on the past.

If MOONSHINER is set on being about the past, then it’s a bit of a ramshackle effort as it’s divided between the admittedly solid sets of folk and acoustic tracks and an otherwise dull and generic set of bedroom pop materials. If such an attempt is unintentional, then what a what-if that would have been! The truth for the matter is that while Little Boy Velvet has himself cluttered up with ineffectual pursuits at ambient production and drum machine-laden beats, he would have done a fine job as a John Darnielle-adjacent singer-songwriter. His lyricism might not be the most impeccable and there are some blunders to be found, yet the kind of everyman tone that is felt could leave one wanting more. If he wants to make a break from his bedroom materials and go for a lo-fi folk project entirely with his songwriting sharpened up to the edge, he could make a nice bit of shock. 

Fans of folk music in general will feel frustrated at the sheer inconsistency in quality between tracks; aficionados gravely bothered by its unreached potential. If Little Boy Velvet decides to make a left turn, let’s hope it’ll be with ‘Scared Children’, ‘Moonville’, and ‘littlest’. Reality has it that the three songs would have continued to remain as relative standouts on more respectable artists’ outputs. I’m sure that he has it in him to make more songs like it.

2.1/5