The New York-based Holy Hive consists of Homer Steinweiss on drums, Joe Harrison on bass, and Paul Spring on vocals and guitar. Their second album is a self-titled affair coming out on Big Crown Records, as did their debut from last year. The label connection might inspire thoughts of neo-soulfulness, but while that’s not an inaccurate assumption, particularly as Steinweiss has backed up Amy Winehouse, Lady Gaga, Adele and others, it’s only part of an equation that has been impressively honed on this ample 15-track set. It’s available digitally, on compact disc and on either standard black or translucent pink with blue spatter vinyl on September 24.
Holy Hive stands out in the Big Crown catalog through a sound that’s been dubbed Folk Soul. As I mentioned in an assessment of their debut in these web pages from June of 2020, this style hybrid might conjure positive visions of Bill Withers and perhaps Terry Callier, or maybe even Curtis Mayfield (and late period Tim Buckley as a significant negative), and then not much else.
Folk Soul is certainly an applicable tag for Holy Hive’s sound, indeed as the band’s bio details the meeting up Minnesota way of neo-soul session ace Steinweiss and Spring, a traveling folk singer. But after completing the band with Harrison and then enlisting a bevy of guest contributors including, either on this album or the last, harpist Mary Lattimore, trumpeter Dave Guy (of The Roots), singer-bassist Shannon Wise (of The Shacks), and guitarist Robin Pecknold (of Fleet Foxes), Holy Hive have fomented a well-controlled atmosphere that’s frequently reminiscent of gentle psych and even mellow pop.
Key to Holy Hive’s success is how they never misplace the backbeat nor the range of emotion at the microphone (a soul necessity), as Spring has a superb falsetto. Both elements are foregrounded in Holy Hive’s crisp opener “Color It Easy,” which sounds like it could’ve been a hit single anywhere from 1968 to ’72, except that the drums wouldn’t have hit quite this hard back then (and yet with consummate restraint), and some producer would’ve no doubt marred the situation by slathering on canned strings or something similar.
But as said, Holy Hive’s is a well-controlled situation, so missteps are notably absent here. Instead, the trio is detectably spreading out, a little and sometimes a lot, with the upbeat piano-driven “Story of My Life” reminding me of Shuggie Otis and “Golden Crown” adding Wise’s backing vocal and some tasty psych-shaded organ. “Ain’t That the Way” follows, connecting like an early ’70s aspiring pop-auteur move, with Spring’s vocals really standing out.
“Runaway” is next, an absolute gem, with flute flowing into the frame and Steinweiss getting busy on the snare. Also, Harrison’s bassline is gloriously simple, Lattimore hovers around the edges, and Spring’s vocals enter a UK psych-folk zone. It’s here that the mellotron (or something similar) emerges, with the effect subtly weird rather than syrupy, reinforcing the band’s good judgement.
Rich with fingerpicked guitar, woodblock percussion and vocal harmony, “Deadly Valentine” strengthens the ties to folk but gradually morphs into an environment nodding toward baroque psych-pop, and with an undercurrent of menace. It’s cool as shit. From there, “I Don’t Envy Yesterdays” is a nifty, if tidy showcase for guitar and vocals, with a nice slow fadeout, while “A Wild Rose” shows off the band’s strummy side and with a significant gust of mystical mellowness that rolls right into the laidback folk-pop of “All I’d Be Is Where You Are.”
Damn. Crucial is how Holy Hive never falter into the innocuous, nor are they merely approximating prior acts or stuck in one era. “Golden Chains” recalls early Shins for example, but just a smidge, as Guy’s trumpet adds a touch of melancholy panache. Next is the short flute-tinged instrumental interlude “Cynthia’s Medication,” which casually strengthens Holy Hive’s soulful bona fides in front of the late ’60s Beach Boys-evocative “Brooklyn Ferry.”
Entering the home stretch, “Circling the Surface” exudes primo glide as it segues into “Starless,” which is rife with snare and hi-hat and accented with vibraphone. For closer “Star Crossed,” the organ reenters the scene (but without overtaking matters) and the aura of UK psych-folk returns, bringing with it a hint of the cinematic.
To elaborate, “Star Crossed” unwinds a little like a movie theme song from the early ’70s, back when a film’s credits were still occasionally loaded up front and studios would sometimes utilize a pop or rock song to help establish the mood. This concluding similarity highlights Holy Hive’s progress in a relatively short span. They haven’t moved beyond Folk Soul, but they have expanded their approach to it beyond any reasonable expectations.
GRADED ON A CURVE:
A-
