Merge Folk 12 Items

Friendship's Merge debut, Love the Stranger, moves like a country record skipping in just the right spot, leaving its fellow travelers longing for a place they've only visited in their dreams. Guitarist Peter Gill, drummer Michael Cormier-O'Leary, bassist Jon Samuels, and hawkeyed balladeer Dan Wriggins map out the group's particular, breathtaking landscape and invite the listener to share in its glory. Between instrumental pit stops at "Kum & Go" and "Quickchek," local references in Love the Stranger create a catalog of human perception, presented as roadside attractions. From grape jelly residue ("Ramekin") to the site of a demolished cathedral ("St. Bonaventure") to King of the Hill quotations ("Smooth Pursuit"), the record's images craft a symbolic language of high and low Americana, both evocative and consistently accessible. Spending time with Love the Stranger creates a community _ one in which the window between the listener and the musicmaker shatters in full, until all that remains are the fragments you decide to pick up together. Like its sprawling lyrical references, Love the Stranger's production is both familiar and capacious enough for pedal steel, synth strings, airy folk guitar field recordings, and Midi pad exploration to work in vital harmony. Influenced by Friendship's punk and indie peers as much as road-star forebears like Lucinda Williams and Lambchop, Wriggins says of the recording sessions: "I wanted the album to sound like Emmylou Harris and the Hot Band in the '70s. Pete wanted it to sound like a semi full of spent fuel rods, barreling towards a runaway truck ramp. Jon kept reminding us that the studio is an instrument, and Michael wanted it to sound like the breakdown two-and-a-half minutes into Shuggie Otis' `Strawberry Letter 23.'" Friendship is probably already your favorite band's favorite band, a long-revered Iykyk of DIY with a devoted cult following from Wawa to In-N-Out. With Love the Stranger, the Friendship universe only continues to expand and grow more open-hearted, more inviting, with every passing note. It's a record that locates the listener exactly where the listener is, and wherever that may be, makes a friend out of them, too.

Indie exclusive Peak Edition on Orange & Black Swirl Vinyl, in a gatefold cover + poster.

It's spring of 2023 in the North Carolina Piedmont, and songwriter and singer M.C. Taylor - leader of the band Hiss Golden Messenger - is feeling alive. Joyful. Eternal, he might say. For the Grammy-nominated musician, whose albums have traced an internal path through adulthood, fatherhood, spirituality, and depression for well over a decade, this is something new. "The tunes on Jump for Joy were composed in free moments throughout 2022, a year during which Hiss was on the road more or less constantly," explains Taylor. "And perhaps because the post-pandemic energy out in the world felt so chaotic and uncertain, I found myself thinking a lot about the role that music has played in my life and how exactly I ended up in the rarefied position of leading a band and crew all over the globe through dingy graffiti-scrawled green rooms, venerated music halls, dust-blown roadside motels. Sometimes playing in front of 5,000; sometimes 200. Sleeping sitting up. Laughing until my stomach hurts. Not being able to fall asleep at 3 a.m. in some anonymous bed because my mind is spinning with anxiety or depression or adrenaline, or because my ears are still ringing. Robbing Peter to pay Paul, then robbing Paul to pay Peter back. Over and over again. It's an outlaw life but one, I'm coming to realize, that makes me happy." The songs that make up Jump for Joy - the sharpest and most autobiographical that Taylor has written under the Hiss name - read as a sort of epistolary, postcards between the present-day songwriter and his alias Michael Crow, a teenaged dreamer very much like Taylor himself, who trips his way through the 14 tunes that make up the record. In this way, Jump for Joy is a meditation on a life lived with art, and the ways that our hopes and dreams and decisions bump up against_ and, with a little bit of luck, occasionally merge with real life. "Creating this character became the way that I could explore these vulnerable, tender moments that were so decisive in my life, even if I didn't know it at the time," explains Taylor. Produced by Taylor and engineered by longtime Hiss compatriot Scott Hirsch over two weeks in the late fall of 2022 at the fabled Sonic Ranch studio in Tornillo, TX, just a short walk from the Mexican border, Jump for Joy dances with joyful, spontaneous energy that feels like a fresh chapter in the Hiss Golden Messenger oeuvre. Taylor is accompanied throughout the album by his crack live band: guitarist Chris Boerner, bassist Alex Bingham, keyboardist Sam Fribush, and drummer Nick Falk, a collection of musicians that have helped make Hiss Golden Messenger's live performances legendary affairs.

Complete box.

Original inner sleeve and poster. Limited edition.

Cover and vinyl are close to NM.

It's spring of 2023 in the North Carolina Piedmont, and songwriter and singer M.C. Taylor_leader of the band Hiss Golden Messenger_is feeling alive. Joyful. Eternal,he might say. For the Grammy-nominated musician, whose albums have traced an internal path through adulthood, fatherhood, spirituality, and depression for well overa decade, this is something new. "The tunes onJump for Joy were composed in freemoments throughout 2022, a year during which Hiss was on the road more or less constantly," explains Taylor. "And perhaps because the post-pandemic energy out in the world felt so chaotic and uncertain, I found myself thinking a lot abo...

Friendship's Merge debut, Love the Stranger, moves like a country record skipping in just the right spot, leaving its fellow travelers longing for a place they've only visited in their dreams. Guitarist Peter Gill, drummer Michael Cormier-O'Leary, bassist Jon Samuels, and hawkeyed balladeer Dan Wriggins map out the group's particular, breathtaking landscape and invite the listener to share in its glory. Between instrumental pit stops at "Kum & Go" and "Quickchek," local references in Love the Stranger create a catalog of human perception, presented as roadside attractions. From grape jelly residue ("Ramekin") to the site of a demolished cathedral ("St. Bonaventure") to King of the Hill quotations ("Smooth Pursuit"), the record's images craft a symbolic language of high and low Americana, both evocative and consistently accessible. Spending time with Love the Stranger creates a community _ one in which the window between the listener and the musicmaker shatters in full, until all that remains are the fragments you decide to pick up together. Like its sprawling lyrical references, Love the Stranger's production is both familiar and capacious enough for pedal steel, synth strings, airy folk guitar field recordings, and Midi pad exploration to work in vital harmony. Influenced by Friendship's punk and indie peers as much as road-star forebears like Lucinda Williams and Lambchop, Wriggins says of the recording sessions: "I wanted the album to sound like Emmylou Harris and the Hot Band in the '70s. Pete wanted it to sound like a semi full of spent fuel rods, barreling towards a runaway truck ramp. Jon kept reminding us that the studio is an instrument, and Michael wanted it to sound like the breakdown two-and-a-half minutes into Shuggie Otis' `Strawberry Letter 23.'" Friendship is probably already your favorite band's favorite band, a long-revered Iykyk of DIY with a devoted cult following from Wawa to In-N-Out. With Love the Stranger, the Friendship universe only continues to expand and grow more open-hearted, more inviting, with every passing note. It's a record that locates the listener exactly where the listener is, and wherever that may be, makes a friend out of them, too.