by Nitsuh Abebe
The third album from Richmond, Virginia'a Drunk offers a fully realized vision of their signature sound; the record's frequently brilliant songwriting is based around minimally clean, chimy electric guitars, with a rustic Appalachian feel that recalls (but goes much further than) the work of Palace or even Cat Power. The results are heartbreakingly beautiful -- the drawling, antique songs on the album would probably sound gorgeous even in the worst of settings, and keen arrangments of accordions, clarinets, and violins adorn and highlight them in the best of ways. True to the band's name and general goals, To Corner Wounds is as wistful, pensive, and melancholy as one could wish -- it's the sort of rural lament that reaches out to listeners on a level far more instinctual and emotional than modern music usually strives for, and it's hard to imagine that this work wouldn't touch just about any audience.