To be clear, there are absolute jams right here, searing reminders of or mighty introductions to Nance’s antiquarian energy. “Mock the Hours” barrels from the gates like an Allman-powered anthem, Kevin Donahue’s drums kicking the shit beneath Nance’s crosscut riff. Howling from rock’s under-funded fringes about outlasting lengthy odds, Nance sounds just like the chief of some mid-’90s alternative-rock band whose regional hit in some way broke huge. It’s an inescapable tune, its sharp hook set into place by piano that pokes like fingers to the ribs. “Credit score Line” turns an identical trick, its lithe little lick seemingly exported duty-free from some Mississippi roadside dive. It scores Nance’s lament completely. The compulsive mantra of “Treatment Vs. Illness,” the winking fuck-you chorus of “Facet Eyed Sam,” the rhythmic moan of “Minimize It Off”: There isn’t a doubt on Mowed Sound that Nance can write and lead a tune. Every music is a crosshatch of touchstones iconic, obscure, and every part in between—to , to . Right here is Nance’s file assortment as potent distillate.
Longtime Nance confederate James Schroeder recorded Mowed Sound in bursts that stretched practically 18 months, which means the band didn’t decamp to a lavish studio with employed fingers on account of its well-heeled new label. It does, nonetheless, typically appear so, with performances that at all times cease in need of escape velocity, as if afraid to exit some imagined radio land. The lick and groove of “Facet Eyed Sam” sound predestined for infinite repetition and variation, however the band fades out after three minutes. The smoke dissipates simply once you suppose you see the fireplace. “Credit score Line,” likewise, frames a playground for the tangled guitars of Nance and Schroeder, however they squeeze in just a few succinct duets earlier than drifting away. This take is listed as “Variation #5,” and Nance roared on acaptured and launched in late 2022. As with half the good songs on Mowed Sound, it’s laborious to not hear what appears like a half-there take and suppose, “Please, go on.”
The eccentricity is, as a substitute, crammed into corners this time—trip cymbals that land like little earthquakes throughout “No Style Tart Sufficient,” as an illustration, or the transient and ecstatic tape piece, “Molly’s Loop.” Nance contains two nation ballads right here, partnering with Pearl Lovejoy-Boyd to conjure Gram Parson’s Grievous Angel for “Tumbleweed” and shutting with the Southern exile torment of “In Orlando.” These are beautiful and aching songs, suggesting that Nance has discovered yet one more avenue for exploration. However on Mowed Sound, these anomalies squander momentum and take up the house the place this band might and ought to be opening up, taking these open-ended songs for prolonged escapades throughout Nebraska flatlands.