The Ascetic Junkies – One Shoe Over The Cuckoo’s Nest

contributor: St. Even

The Ascetic Junkies stay true to the paradoxical nature of their name through much of their latest effort, “One Shoe Over the Cuckoo’s Nest”: (sometimes simultaneously) earnest and flippant, sweet and carnal, altruistic and jaded.

Lyrically, musically, and stylistically switching gears, often mid-song, one gets the impression the Junkies are collectively and frantically searching the musical landscape for some high ground no one else is haunting. That said, the second track begins a series of poignant reminders: how tenderly familiar such a search can sound.

Once “Kali, All I Do” is ushered into the third verse by way of Stephen’s steady, shuffling snare, it’s abundantly clear why Kali and Matt’s voices are so effortlessly interwoven and intricately tangled.

Matt confesses, “So I fell for you a little bit late/ Midnight banging down the gate/ It’s out there to tell you so/ That I can’t take it if you never know,” prior to the pair lamenting the ocean between them in the subsequent bridge.

Throughout “One Shoe”, these heavily melodic, musically unpredictable bridges (“A Protest Song” may have the most pleasantly surprising bridge of the bunch), linking memorable choruses, are often stunning and most effective when the melding of the two’s voices remains prominent (“The Dirty Song” being the exception to this rule, showcasing the remarkable versatility of Kali’s voice by her lonesome in, perhaps, the record’s most brazen moments).

The Junkies falter only when venturing into territory that feels thematically and/or aesthetically overambitious. The brooding, existential “Amsterdam,” and jaded tone of “Kansas Road Trip” hang a bit heavy in contrast to their ballads and more personal, anecdotal pieces. Stylistic switcheroos, mid-stride, and post-production flourishes (“Dracula” might be considered a bit busy along these lines) do occasionally distract from truly well-crafted songs.

However, memorable choruses (“I know the windows sell the house/ Close the curtains, sleep without a sound”), spot-on performances (the albums’ lush acoustic arrangements are performed with Nashville-esque proficiency), and the endearing character of Matt’s understated, yet arrestingly accurate voice, intertwined with Kali’s virtuosic versatility, are what one ultimately walks away with.

The album’s outstanding final cut, “(Whoa Oh Oh Oh),” plays to all the outfit’s strengths, contains gorgeous changes, and the descending, cyclical bridge– “And if I get to feeling like I’m not coming home, you can sing me a song/ If I get to feel like I’m doing this alone, you can sing me a song…” –feels like the end credits of a love story you hope will have a sequel.