Larkin Poe is, by some stretch, celebrating twenty years of songwriting. Rebecca and Megan Lovell dig deep for latest album Bloom. You can still hear their Nashville roots. For those from the area, this will be a defiant sound, some tangible link between popular music and region. But for the many people not from Tennessee, this broad rock swing, adjacent as it inevitably is with country, sounds a little flat. Larkin Poe has songs of tender and genuine thoughts, of an open and outward-thinking duo writing their way through the influences on their lives. But Bloom lacks an instrumental riff or steadiness that can remove Bloom from its well-trodden country-like swings. This is not the fault of what Larkin Poe can write of and relate to, but of the instrumental accessibility, the repeat and fade ending opener Mockingbird can be assured.
As can much of Bloom elsewhere. There is a steadiness to the stylish sound, a suggestion of quality lingers on the outskirts of these country rock-like moments. Roots in this Nashville style are likeable enough. Bloom joins a relatively strong year for albums toeing the edges of country. Ringo Starr can be thrown into the mix with his Look Up, for instance. But Bloom has the Lovell sisters’ toy with the expected vocal style, the fundamentally unchanged guitar riffs which are almost isolated and left to let loose irrespective of lyrical content on Easy Love Pt 1. That, in hindsight, feels like a warm-up for the fuzz and welcoming tones heard on Little Bit. What a change it makes. Electric thuds and this confidence of a life well lived. That trust in the self is a fundamentally unique part of the Larkin Poe appeal, and Bloom is filled with those moments. No shame, no desire to be someone else, just a complete dedication to being yourself and the positive nature of being so committed to that role. Optimistic but heartfelt, fantastic.
Larkin Poe is not far off inspirational numbers, and as rocking as Bluephoria is, the short fuse and power of those guitar cuts is the right sort of thrill. Everyone should aim to shine like the moon. Bloom is filled with those opportunistic moments which to most may feel inspiring. They are, but there is a sense of simplicity in those encounters which fill the heart with this hope for the future. Bluephoria wears as much on its sleeve but never feels ashamed or embarrassed of a plain occasion inspiring a change. Pieces like Nowhere Fast and If God is a Woman struggle to move themselves away and over the usual humdrum strum of electrified country. These are moments where the subject matter simply deserves more than a broadly appealing, simplistic thud of percussion.
Bloom feels of a time now passed, and there is a solidness to this. Larkin Poe is continuing to carry a torch long thought extinguished. With pieces like Pearl and You Are The River they find new life in the country fundamentals, fresh avenues of thought to follow. Their writing may feel a tad slack on Pearls but conviction and instrumentation is half the battle. A song which has both fares far better and while the duo cannot piece it all together for that one perfect burst, there is enough consistency and interest to be found in Bloom. Solid work the whole way through, just lagging behind what listeners could and should expect from the genre at large.
