Barzin

There's something deeply and gorgeously ghostly about Barzin's reverb-doused Americana, something that burns as strangely natural. Steel-pedals breeze through the air in a manner previously reserved solely for feedback-drenched shoegazed guitars. Barzin's voice rests at a whisper and the tempos ease themselves in a steady gallop. Like Low parlaying their one-of-a-kind restraint into a Lambchop covers set, Barzin's melancholy tapestries are woven with a pleasing freshness that luckily avoids the standard slo-core/alt-country cliches by possessing a confidence that belies the record's unassuming quaintness. By the end, you come to realize that My Life In Rooms is aptly-titled: a thunderstorm record soundtracking a day resting in bed away from the cold sheets of water outside. Don't be surprised to see Barzin forging new terrains in the No Depression landscape down the line.