Songs of the Week: Water Weight, Estella Dawn & more

Welcome to Songs of the Week, a running series with new selections.

With the streaming age, it’s hard to sift through the onslaught of music releases and discover the good stuff. As it’s always been our mission, we here at B-Sides & Badlands hope that you find something that not only moves you but inspires you to seek out these artists and buy their music. The latest round-up, once again, spans dusty Americana and indie folk, with a little pop/rock mayhem tossed in for good measure.

Water Weight – “The Ballad of Sunny & Bolo”

Percussion crackles, sparks warming the cool night air. Willis Mathewson, known onstage as Water Weight, takes a seat around the campfire to regale a tale about two rough ‘n rugged cowboys. “I’ve been feeling so low / You’re making me high / You and I could leave this town for somewhere new,” his voice blows gently across the dusty plains somewhere out west. His words continue to sweep through like tumbleweeds, “We could finally do what we were made to do.” A guitar’s lonesome chords drive the arrangement, accentuated with the light pitter-patter of bongos. It’s a serene performance to contrast against the song’s brittle and dark undertow.

Mordechai Mendoza – “Young Love”

Young love is a common thread running through popular music. It’s far from a new conceit, yet musician Mordechai Mendoza brings airy charm to an age old theme. On “Young Love,” Mendoza waxes wistful for the past, simply replaying a fling from his youth over again in his head. “Oh, as we grew old / Well that touch grew much colder than it was before / I couldn’t feel it anymore,” he laments, struggling to accept time’s merciless hand. Stretches have time have lapsed since that once-burning hot romance, and now, only ash remains. Mendoza sings with such heart that you feel his every syllable pounding against the eardrums. “Must be nothing than young love,” he sings, a refrain left to sting the heart.

Assorted Orchids – “The 4th of July”

Singer-songwriter T. McWilliams was holed up in a sublet when he penned the meditative “The 4th of July.” Fireworks just happened to be whistling into the night sky, an apt backdrop during a moment of transition and personal reckoning. “I don’t know where I belong,” the Assorted Orchids leader sings over prickling acoustic guitar and little else. The arrangement ebbs and flows, not unlike a crystal clear stream gurgling down the mountainside. McWilliams continues to wrangle the restless feelings inside, singing, “Somewhere closer, somewhere far beyond wild dreams / In the land of the free / Mountains and streams, shining seas, ships and airplanes.” Amidst personal turmoil, he attempts to understand the meaning of freedom in such a savage world.

Lauren Scott-Phillips – “Handsome Woman”

Love songs typically fall into an overly sentimental trap, sticky with little actual substance. Fortunately, Lauren Scott-Phillips‘ “Handsome Woman” is a threadbare dedication to her wife, pulling the listener close and allowing for a glimpse into their undying love. “Everyday and night, I’ll be your handsome woman” is a stunning refrain, woven over acoustic guitar. Phillips is as light as a feather, her vocal performance nestling between ethereal and earthy. “Do you know who I am?” she prods her lover, even though they both already know the answer.

Fox Royale – “Carnival Gods”

Fox Royale are four rascals with rebellious spirits. “Come on, let’s ride this ride again!” rings like a deafening alarm. “Carnival Gods” laces up its shiny pop/rock tendencies with a throbbing lyrical heart inside its gooey center. “They all hate it when we run ahead / The way I’m taking the attention off them,” sings Nathan Hurley, a voice bouncing along the rhythm. In considering their place in the world, and how that affects their relationships, they draw closer to completely understanding themselves.

Estella Dawn – “Winners”

Estella Dawn plants her feet in the eye of a firestorm. “I’m not going to bow if I don’t have to,” she sets the earth ablaze. Even as flames consume everything around her, she pushes through the fire and smoke, earning deep burn marks on her skin. “I’m the one left standing in the end,” she snarls. In truth, she sets her sights on encouraging herself to weather the heat. “Go ahead, you can blame me for that / But I’m the one,” she heaves into the mic. Her voice, bluesy and heart-piercing, rides the groove, with production accentuating her remarkable presence.

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