Tucker Theodore
Lady Hope [CS; Antiquated Future]

The desolation of Lady Hope is ripening in the stewing sun of a world suffocating under immense heat and pressure. It’s warping under the magnification of scrutiny and division. It’s ripping itself apart. And yet, from the most outer realms of loneliness and solitude, we often find our greatest hope. Tucker Theodore’s Lady Hope is such a profit. It resides in a monastery high on a mountain top, its caterwaul descending among the ruins of past civilizations. It cascades within the deafening rock slide that brings its wisdom down to the massive. A strange barrage of folk, drone, and feedback. Its first three songs (“Dunes Revisited,” “Thief,” “Skin”) are roughshod — ill reflecting their titles and situation. And yet, the subtle Americana of “Flu” is an easy-going song. It seems to suggest to rid ourselves of our ills, we must mediate and peacefully purge ourselves. Or at least that’s what I hear in my fever dream. A favorite of mine is “Equinox,” which is some Mick Barr approximation of a lazy Neil Young finding his way through the Dead Man OST. Yeah, I went with the cheapest explanation possible, but it’s what I feel — and if I’ve learned anything from Lady Hope and American voters in 2017, it’s that feelings trump facts. But the fact is this is a treasure relegated to going largely unnoticed because we have a new Taylor Swift album to mull over. And we’re still talking about Kanye, and whether Jay-Z cheated on Beyonce, and we’re too fixated on tabloid causes to really care about each other’s well being. But Lady Hope, from its Mt. Sinai perch, will eventually find its audience, while burying those who do not heed its peaceful warning in an avalanche of heavy earth.

Cerberus

Cerberus seeks to document the spate of home recorders and backyard labels pressing limited-run LPs, 7-inches, cassettes, and objet d’art with unique packaging and unknown sound. We love everything about the overlooked or unappreciated. If you feel you fit such a category, email us here.

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