Nethers

I have a completely odd feeling for this album. It's like nothing I've heard before, but in a way it sounds like everything I've heard before. It's eerie in the fact that I can listen to the majority of these songs and be able to completely place myself back as a seven-year-old, in my family's old farmhouse, sitting on the carpet with my one-piece zip-up pajamas watching the Lawrence Welk show with my grandfather and the rest of my family (yes, this was one of our family quirks). Nethers could easily be any of the aqua blue polyester-clad acts on that show, but at the same time they're wholly and beautifully modern. It's kind of like they're stuck in another dimension, where they make music that transcends all time and space but cuts directly to your heart. It's creepy.

According to the press release, the band locked themselves into an old house in Virginia and didn't come out until they created this debut album. "They ran out of water, electricity and courage at various points, and after a week, came down from the mountain with eleven songs steeped in isolation and mystery." Well, that explains a lot. Nethers is led by female vocalist Nikki West, whose voice has the detached but dependable stature that so many female vocalists out there think they have, but truly lack. West only fades into the background when it's necessary, but is ever-present on the largely instrumental songs as more of a haunting, lurking presence that you welcome to come back. Each track has its own voice, its own tone, and each are carried marvelously by West's candor, but none stray too far from the disc's peculiar theme.

In Fields We Will Lie begins with the honky-tonkish "O the Deed," a song reportedly written as a comfort to a canary lowered into a mineshaft. Like all of Nethers' songs, it has a vintage feel with a slight coat of dust, but this track in particular has a very spicy jambalaya quality that's scarce throughout the rest of the album. West's delicate vocals once again comfort the listener in the ethereal "Festival of Grot" and the lullaby-like "Do Mi Re." "Migratory Birds" is the most profound song on the disc, and in its purest essence sings as a "quiet song" - the type of song where you're afraid to even breathe too loudly, so as not to disrupt the slow meter and the impact it has. West's voice completely shines in an antique, classy way your great aunt would appreciate, and the modest use of an organ makes me want to trap this song in a jar a play it for kids who've been bad. Slowly the beat and background picks up, and West's voice rises to the occasion and slows back down again to close. It's so great, but weird, in a good way. Finally, In Fields We Will Lie ends with another slow clap 'n slapper, "Daybreak Hallelujah," which further cements this band's credibility with me.

I've never heard a band like Nethers before, and I don't think I ever will again. They've got the eclectic, off-beat zing to find a home in the hearts of a spectrum of listeners, and could easily fall into the cult favorite category. So do as I did, put your ear to the ground, and try to capture the essence that is Nethers.

- Laura Misjak

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See Also: More music from a mountain.