Barn Coat [EP]
words by tom johnson
Like passing shadows in the dark, like the songs themselves, Lisa/Liza’s new EP Barn Coat crept in to the world last week, quiet and unannounced, save for those who knew where to look. Her first new music since 2016’s stunning Deserts Of Youth LP, the five-song release is a tender unraveling, the quietness of solitude in the early hours of the morning, a place where great sentiments are parcelled within small songs you can barely understand how they fit at all.
Unadorned throughout, the nature of the recordings gives the EP a decidedly unsettled feel, almost like you’re hearing these songs played live, drifting in through the walls or caught in the wind. The playing is raw and succinct and, as such, it’s Liza Victoria’s voice that acts as the binding, the tethered string that holds us, the listeners, here, regardless of the ambiguity. “Maybe it’s a voice I don’t know, maybe it’s a garden out of reach,” she sings on the simmering ‘Encounters’ and maybe it is.
The overriding mood never once shifts, like a cloaking fog, rolled in and settling for days, and it adds an air of unsettled mystery to the whole EP. Much like Deserts Of Youth, the songs here feel remarkably earthy, undoubtedly human, shaped by lingering melancholy and the soft ache of quietude but, also, plucked from the air and soil, the woods and the wind, those little moments where the world reminds us we’re so much smaller and inconsequential than we give ourselves credit for.
“Just wanted to be someone you remembered to love,” she sings on the crushing ‘Windows Up’, perhaps the most pertinent lyric here, a frame for anything and everything else you can find within this beautifully considered, strikingly poignant record. It’s out now via Bandcamp – and you can stream it in full right here: