It’s a natural human trait to want to characterize things and put them into convenient little boxes that can be referred to without any hesitation or second thought. That axiom is especially true of music critics, most of who attempt to put an easy handle on whatever band they’re describing so as to easily identify the sound without having to struggle with ambiguities. It does make the gig easier after all.
So what to do about a band like Oakley Hall, whose sound seems to dip into a variety of genres without residing in any one style for very long? The band’s latest - their fourth to date (but only the second that’s widely available) - would seem to many to be just another brand of Americana. After all, it’s got the swaying pedal steel, the close-knit harmonies, and the sort of weary wanderlust that naturally taps those rebel roots. Yet, with the exceptions of “Free Radicals Lament,” with its brace of banjo and fiddle, and the down-home ramble of “Best Of Luck,” the songs don’t find an easy fit in those realms, or for that matter, any other.
What we do get instead is a sturdy, assertive and alluring confidence that elevates even a meditative outing like “First Frost” and “I’ll Follow You” into experiences far more mesmerizing than mere contemplation. Though tentative on occasion, they’re rarely evasive; “Marine Life,” “No Dreams,” “Alive Among The Thieves,” “Best of Luck” and “Rue The Blues” bear a tumultuous, atmospheric undertow that shatters any sense of complacency. The overall feel is one of anthemic outreach, a tactic that turns I’ll Follow You one of those truly singular records that leads the way into unexpected terrain.
--Lee Zimmerman
