“When did your love, when did your love grow cold?”
“You & I” starts Hummingbird with Taylor Rice singing a tender melody of heartbreak. That sense of detachment and possible loss continues through much of the record. It’s a growth period. Growth between debut and sophomore expressions. Growth between former band aspirations and members. The vocal harmonies beloved by the band’s audience return by song three, “Ceilings”, and it’s a sweet return. Even so, you listen on through the record and understand that these men are indeed in a different place–an introspective place in relation to ones they love. Perhaps it’s distrust (“Black Ballons”) or a concern that may lead to such (“Breakers”). Hear “Black Spot” and recognize there are tears inside the joy. The pain is “Three Months” must be so intense that it could only be alluded to. Would that all of us would ask ourselves, as Kelcey Ayer asks (in the song, “Columbia”), “Patricia, am I giving enough…am I loving enough”?
“Breathing out / hoping to breathe in / I know nothing’s wrong but I’m not convinced.”
Take your time getting into this record. This is not 2009′s Gorilla Manor, nor should it be. Hummingbird is indie-folk that reveals the band to be well acquainted with the blues.
RT @GLMmag: “Hummingbird” proves that @localnatives have become acquainted with the blues. http://t.co/EDbN8zXr http://t.co/QsDZGJ16