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NYC Post-Punk Project Smog Cutter Cuts Through the Gloom with Hazy Gothic Folk Single “Blues Country”
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I’ve been trying to figure out what the hell to do with my life
It’s been years had to think of the time that felt just right
Sounds like I dipped into blues then moved into country by now
In the spectral intersections of the streets of Brooklyn, New York, a post-punk poet and dreamer named Rashad Rastam moonlights as a musician who weaves tales under the murky moniker Smog Cutter. When the arc of the sun illuminates the day, Rashad dons the role of an art producer, serves as the architect of his label and design house DAHSAR, and voices his musings on the Wear Many Hats podcast.
Now, Rastam unveils his third melodic offering, the groovy “Blues Country,” a song beckoning itself from the shadows of his inaugural record, “Nitehawker.” His sound? A labyrinthine mix reminiscent of the Dandy Warhols, Rowland S. Howard, Cranes, The Eels, early Beck, and Dirty Beaches. Rastam’s husky voice, languorous and distant, glides over a 90s tapestry, touched by soft breaths of psychedelia, interlacing tendrils of Americana, twilight-touched gothic country, and the misty realms of shoegaze folk.
The lyrics for this gem are poignant and poetic, enveloped in this dreamy atmosphere. In the winding labyrinth of life, a soul grapples with existential quandaries, yearning for moments when everything once felt aligned. The duality of blues and country tugs at their spirit, reminiscent of more connected times, of distances less vast and yawning. Emotions run deep, carving scars of passion and longing. Amid the tumult, a plea arises: for simplicity, unity, the essence of authenticity.
A haunting pull beckons towards a pastoral past – the farm, a haven of solitude and reflection. Yet, the city, with its seductive allure and chaos, calls them back, painting contrasting memories of beauty and grime. This wandering spirit dons various roles in search of the perfect fit, much like diving into waters with deceptive temperatures. As memory converges with reality, the weight of the past lingers. And in their hand, a cigarette: an ephemeral escape, a temporary reprieve.
Listen to “Blues Country below:
Within the echoing chambers of Deep Space Recording, Blues Country found its heartbeat. Guided by the deft hands of Chris McLaughlin, each note and harmony was meticulously crafted. The ethereal realm of production was traversed under the watchful expertise of Joel Eel, adding layers of enigma to the composition. The final alchemy, the masterful touch that breathed life into the song, was bestowed by Kevin McPhee, weaving his magic at East End Mastering.
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Photo by Frank Milea
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