I don't know. There's something about melancholic music made by lone girls with guitars that goes beyond "beautiful" or "magical". While male sorrow appears to almost inevitably lead to wallowing in miserable self-pity (and alcoholism), women more often preserve some kind of laconic pragmatism in view of the inescapable setbacks in live, a stance they are able to transform into songs that will make the listener feel the pain without ever drifting into tearjerking cheesiness, something more recently shown with perfection by artists like Tiny Vipers or the wonderful Angel Olsen.
Now, we have to add Albuquerque, New Mexico's Emma Crane who records under the moniker The Arsonist. A tune full of longing with a total lack of illusion, Shores' quiet guitar and Crane's fragile yet unshaken voice have left me spellbound and confused for days now, being aware that I've listened to one of most enchanting things I have and I will come across all year.
The Arsonist - Shores
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