Husky Rescue - Country Falls mp3 album

Husky Rescue's debut, COUNTRY FALLS, is a fresh breath of Finnish air. Alternately dreamy and funky, they manage to blend Old West cinematic soundscapes with electronics. For instance, the opener, "Sweet Little Kitten," takes the best bits of Thorazine-inspired country music and folds it into a heady concoction. "Summertime Cowboy" and "Sunset Drive" are much more upbeat, but those are in the minority here. More common are tracks like "New Light of Tomorrow" and "My World," which float in an icy haze. The use of lap steel guitar (both played and sampled) adds an aching beauty to the proceedings. "Gasoline Girl" throws some rock music growl to shake things up, but "Rainbow Flows" and "Sleep Tight Tiger" nearly drift off into the ether entirely. But the noir sensibilities of "Mean Street" and the slow build of "The Good Man" help bring things back to earth. And the simplicity of "The Man Who Flew Away" caps the album nicely. A beauty of an album.

The enchanting debut from Husky Rescue, the brainchild of multi-instrumentalist and Helsinki native Marko Nyberg, gracefully slides from creepy folk-hop to electro-mod seemingly on a whim like an alt. country Beta Band, everything glazed in a Nordic chill. The core of the first two tracks "Sweet Little Kitten" and lead single "Summertime Cowboy" lies in the chemistry between the fast-paced-for-melancholy warm and fuzzy bass and the sweet sound of vocalists Emma Salakoski and Reeta-Leena Korhola respectively, those being my personal favs, but — stemming from Nyberg’s specific filmmaker influences — every track has a cinematic soundscape differing in subtle style but not mood. You should feel better after listening to Country Falls, more relaxed. That’s what good chill music does and this is surely that. Husky Rescue’s refusal to adhere to strict genre labeling in lieu of mood also pays dividends on par with the work of David Lynch and Lars van Tier, two of Marko’s major inspirations from the medium of film. Some of the greatest movies don’t really have a classification as clear cut as comedy and action like American Beauty and the first Matrix, while the worst tend to be genres with films attached like the third Matrix and every Jennifer Lopez flick made, excluding The Cell, naturally. The older things get, a better definition of what they were we gain and so the transcendence of older influences, to find one’s niche and oneself becomes the standard of judgment for artists versus imitators. The artists that last, from The Beatles to Beck, are champions of reinvention; and so I believe Nyberg, with his mission statement far more complex than "I wanna rock," to be the real deal. Get in on Husky Rescue before it becomes fashionable. Has Catskills ever steered you wrong before?