My guitar is covered in moss and twigs and now I'm late for work
Rolling dew-doused meadows and sun-soaked streams are the passages of 11:11, and they're really quite pretty. Of the many country-ish emo-ish indie-mostly excursions Evan and co have set out on, their latest foray into the thicket may well be their most patient and under-dramatic to date. Organic and breathable are its tunes, blooming in real time with warm swirling arpeggios (Iodine) and the spindly swaying of oak and pine (Habitat).
Pinegrove's fifth album in the past decade finds leader Evan Stephens Hall pushed over the lines he said he wouldn't cross. Though certainly politically minded, Stephens Hall has never put those thoughts to music so openly. Closing song "11th Hour" declares an "actual emergency" in its closing notes, while the most outspoken track here, "Orange," calls out specifics in big government's failure to do anything to reverse the climate crisis.
It's been eight years since we first heard the solum mutterings of Pinegrove's sound. But even six albums on, the band still manages to peel back their alt-rock etchings and find pensiveness amidst chaos. Their latest release '11:11', a collection of guitar-driven, intimate offerings, evokes the same tone as its namesake- that of wistful, layered musings, which while personal, feel a world away from reality.