Vetiver

To Find Me Gone

(DiCristina)

Record Review by Adam McKibbin

Everything that gets so much as a sidelong glance from Devendra Banhart these days is immediately scooped up by music’s temp archeologists and put into a big bag marked “freak-folk.”  Just the name of the genre has a nice and evocative ring to it, and Banhart—who, as previously mentioned, has kind of a Charles Manson thing going for him (but in a good way)—has the eccentric body of work and quirky persona to make the “freak” part fit and have it be meant as a compliment.  It’s natural, then, that close compadre Andy Cabic would be put into the same group; he and Banhart have started a label together (Gnomonsong), play on each other’s records, pop up at each other’s shows, and generally seem to be two peas in a pod.

But Vetiver’s second full-length, To Find Me Gone, isn’t very freaky at all.  If anything, it’s downright traditional (again, in a good way), brushing against the wall of alt-country, roots-rock, and sensitive singer-songwriter fare—sure, with a peppering of psychedelic kisses, too.  It isn’t an album that pounds down your door; instead, it sets up camp in your front yard and tells you can come and hang out whenever you’re ready.  At times, the laid-back vibe stretches out sections of the albums longer than necessary, but there are also a number of moments of lovely execution and reflection.

Droning opener “Been So Long” sets the mood well, with Cabic’s plaintive vocal settling comfortably over easy percussion, high harmony vocals, and acoustic strumming.  To Find Me Gone is an album that often makes the listener want to be found gone, or found halfway up the PCH with a tent, a cooler, and a carload of old friends.

“You May Be Blue” is one of the brightest highlights, a roadhouse stomper that bubbles and builds and surely sounds great in concert.  The musical swagger is nicely offset by Cabic’s airy lead vocal.  With quite the opposite of swagger, “Down at El Rio” closes To Find Me Gone on another high note.  Where “You May Be Blue” is set into bluesy motion, “Down at El Rio” stops and smells the roses.  A wistful and wonderful duet with Banhart, it sounds just like the end of the night, as you have a sigh and a laugh about the good old days while the last log smolders on the fire.