Larkin Grimm: Parplar | Travis

For those of you who thought the freak-folk movement was missing a dollop or two of genuine freakiness, Larkin Grimm is your girl.

On Parplar, her Young God debut, Grimm, the product of Appalachian hippie cult parents and a Yale education, veers from unbelievable beauty to ghoulish spookiness. The gorgeous and sparse loneliness of opener ³They Were Wrong² aches and soothes simultaneously, but is interrupted by the ferocious gallop of ³Ride That Cyclone,² letting you know that this forest is inhabited not just by fairies and unicorns but also by goblins and sex-starved witches. In fact, on ³Blond and Golden Johns² she sounds exactly like a witch (or what I imagine them to sound like). She is able to vary, from track to track, between the sound of a kind and loving mother, an excited cult leader, and a heartbroken lover, each voice authentic and firmly rooted. Grimm is no tourist. She¹s a vagabond anarchist folkie, for real, and the music is just as real, raw, and beautiful as a result. (Travis)