“Farm Emo.” That’s how Tiberius likes to describe its music, and it’s a fitting title once you hear their latest record, Troubadour. Originally a solo project for Brendan Wright, the vocalist, guitarist, keyboard player, and songwriter expanded their noisy outfit into a brash four-piece, matching deeply personal lyrics to confessional, relatable songwriting, drawing heavily on alt-country, punk, and psychedelia.
With Kelven “KP” Polite on bass, Pat King on pedal steel and banjo, and Sam Blumenstiel on drums (although on this album, Ben Curell is the drummer), the sound actually evokes a comforting familiarity with other area bands. The Boston and Providence scenes have given rise to the likes of Clifford, Otis Shanty, and the Clearwater Swimmers – bands that write terrific songs backed by multiple guitars and wrapped in a loud, occasionally rustic aura. While Troubadour opens with a gentle, brief instrumental prelude, “(there’s nothing wrong with the truth)”, “Sag” soon crashes in, a sturdy, midtempo rocker with frequent slashes of reverb-swelled riffs.
One of the most pleasant surprises of the album is its effortless ability to display multiple influences. “Tag” has the jagged, off-kilter beauty of Pavement‘s best work, but the band flips the script with its longing, deeply melodic choruses and dreamy sequences that recall Andy Partridge or Brian Wilson. Meanwhile, the lazy shuffle of “It Has to Be True” sounds lifted from Zuma-era Neil Young.
However, Tiberius are not a mindlessly derivative group. Their influences serve the songwriting and performances beautifully. All of the various sounds they put into the music always include an undercurrent of folky Americana, with the ever-present pedal steel and banjo dipping in and out of the elegant, epic “Moab”, and the field recordings that give “Painting of a Tree” just the right amount of woodsy veritas.
Tiberius also rock – mightily. The walls of guitars on the mesmerizing “Redwood” are as massive as the trees of its title, and while “Sitting” is, lyrically, filled with vulnerability and self-doubt (“Am I starting to have fun? Am I starting to hope? Am I starting to be let down? Am I down again?” The arrangement is dense with a loud, psychedelic haze.
In a recent interview, Wright said that with Troubadour, they were “focusing on crafting better songs. I think Troubadour is a record that feels very emotional and vulnerable. I was really trying to be cognizant of writing songs that stood on their own, but I also think it’s a really vulnerable record.” Fortunately, Tiberius know how to transform vulnerability into powerful songs that sound great.