Target Heart

We Say...

Review by Jayson Greene

For a country-rock outfit, Blue Giant boast a pretty serious indie pedigree. Their lineup includes Kevin and Anita Robinson, the songwriting duo behind Viva Voce, on guitar and vocals; Chris Funk (guitarist for the Decemberists) manning the pedal steel; Seth Lorinczi (of Circus Lupus, among others) handles the bass, organ and piano; Evan Railton of the Swords Project on drums; and guest vocals from Sleater-Kinney's Corin Tucker. Throw in Bradford Cox (put him on tambourine duty, maybe) and you'd have a straight flush.

As it stands, this might look like an unlikely crowd to tackle No Depression-style alt-country, but it seems every indie-rockers' inner Gram Parsons will out, and the Robinsons, thankfully, aren't using country-rock to play dress-up. There are no Carter Family covers here, no songs about pushing plows or "drinkin'." They seem more interested in country-rock's purposeful timelessness, the pointed way it strips away frivolities and forces economical songwriting.

They have risen to this implicit challenge; every song on their sturdy debut EP bears the long, clean lines of classic country-rock. The opening track, "Target Heart," hinges on the plainspoken phrase "you keep shooting at my target heart." Save for this repeated lyric, and others very close to it, there's not much else going on: alternating C and G chords, a patient drum beat and shimmering threads of pedal steel reverberating into the empty spaces. But it's hypnotic and absorbing, each flourish — a billowing guitar here, a gentle wash of cymbals there — registering with heightened impact.

The rest of the EP is just as special, whether it's the foot-stomping rave-up "Blue Sunshine," which veers closer to Appalachia than most alt-country acts dare go; or the sweetly sashaying "Lonely Girl," which suspends Anita's wispy croon over more glowing webs of pedal steel from Chris Funk. You might not think that years in a hyper-literate indie-pop band would be adequate apprenticeship for country-rock, but Funk turns out to be an extraordinarily sensitive pedal-steel player, and he might just be Blue Giant's secret weapon, the element that sends these simple, rough-hewn songs skyward.

The EP closes on a darker note, with swirling strings and arpeggiated guitar spiraling downward as Kevin gravely warns: "Come hell or high water, you're gonna love me." It's a hint at a broader range, which we now have the pleasure of waiting for; for the time being, though, this EP is lovely company, and a promising debut in its own right.