Taylor Kirk's ominous foray into other-wordly blues is just as spooky as its always been, but this time, the gimmick is met with a fresh amount of soulful sonic consistency. With a name like Timber Timbre, it's not a shock that Kirk's croon is right at home in, say, the woods at night, and the title Creep On Creepin' On should definitely win an award for some combination punny description category. But beyond the slow chugging train of bluesy progressions, Kirk's dirge-y ballads and echoed cries of rituals and swamp magic are met with intention to derail.
Timber Timbre is the Ghostbusters lunchbox of indie music; cool, kooky, and most likely filled with nostalgia. Kirk's timbre is the perfect top-layer; one of Vincent Price's narratives meets Muddy Waters at a Louisiana bayou bar for a drink or two, and maybe a smoke. The songs themselves all follow a basic pattern; strings and piano twinkle as Kirk croons a basic blues melody. Clarinets make guest appearances like graveyard spooks, as Kirk digs the dirt-holes deeper and deeper to thumping bass and honky-tonk riffs. Slow and steady wins the race (to the funeral). Opener "Bad Ritual" barely goes anywhere tempo-wise, but you can almost hear the sped-up, goofy Gnarls Barkley remix in the insidious, infectious refrain. Hell, you don't even need humor to enjoy the track, just an appreciation for Kirk's brilliant genre play and the subtle perfection of Timber Timbre's sound.
And not everything sits in an undead fog — yes, this train can move. "Too Old To Die Young" (another great title) and "Do I Have Power" both jump with a swift, albeit zombified foot, and both contain some of the album's finest moments. Kirk's ability to take the morbid noise of his undead soundtrack and infuse some hard boogie— now that's the true dark magic of Timber Timbre. Just make sure you get off the train before you're stuck for all eternity.