When I first dipped into Jason Molina's Songs: Ohia catalog a few years back, it seemed to me unlikely I would ever truly parse the differences between Molina's work and that of Will Oldham. This was, admittedly, the product of comparable vocal timbres, but untraceable back catalogs and a shared churlishness compounded the problem. Since then, continually diverging musical paths and a keener ear eventually opened plenty of distance between the artists, though I suspect that separating the specter of Will from Begushkin will be a mite tougher. Dan Smith fronts the Brooklyn band, and he shares an affinity not just for Oldham's peculiar tone and twisted phrasing, but also Oldham's "sex, violence...folk music!"-scheming. Begushkin's debut album, Nightly Things, survives these similarities on Smith's talent for physical, evocative imagery and through his band's tidy, thoughtful arrangements.
Real accusations of plagiarism on Begushkin's part must fall flat, not least because the benefits of joining the death-folk fraternity (a meddlesome cult audience chief among them) are-- how to put this?-- not manifold. Still, Smith shares Oldham's odd quest to marry The Canterbury Tales to folk idioms. "Nightly things" are exactly what you'd guess: at one point during the title track Smith strings together "shooting," "booty," "looting," and "hooting" with only the faintest whiff of camp. Elsewhere, during "Bitter Night Choir", he refers to his mug as "black and beardy," his throat, "furry." Smith excels even as he turns his tragi-silly imagery to more emotional concerns, as on "At Night With Me", when he mutters, eyes downcast, "This is like a zoo...you and your monkey paws and me/ In my oxblood shoes." He will later call a woman-- quite possibly the same one-- a "bitch wolf."
Smith occasionally falters, or at least becomes predictable, but when he does his band is crisp and alert. Cynthia Hopkins and Stephanie Rabbins, who between them work an accordion, a violin, a saw, and backing vocals, are Begushkin's engine, turning form-driven folk-rock into righteous, detuned versions of Dylan's "One More Cup of Coffee". "Stroll With Mine"'s rhythmic pulls on the accordion and whining violin steer toward gypsy balladry, and Smith and fellow guitarist Stephen Ryskewitch follow suit with the patient, Eastern guitar licks of "Hearth Light of Our Home". Smith's whelp-vox struggles during these louder moments-- Oldham's did too-- but Hopkins and Rabbins judiciously back him on the choruses and the shaggy mess pulls through intact. Smith better navigates the calmer terrains of "At Night With Me" and "Bitter Night Choir", where his couplets puncture the modest gapes of the band.
At just eight tracks clocking in under 24 minutes, Nightly Things hardly represents Begushkin stretching their wings, but it does help Smith construct his insular, bestial sphere. Begushkin seem to have discovered the wonders of band interplay eons earlier in their development than their forbears, and the benefits of this are likely to increase as Begushkin moves from the brief, corporeal world of Nightly Things to more realized, distinctive realms.
