Review by Tim MartinI happened to be lounging on a Victorian wingback while The Medicine Hat rehearsed for a sold out house show this past winter. My love affair with the furniture in Nabi Loney’s [now Bersche] living room was soon interrupted by the love story of Old Bones. The album traces the young lovers (Nabi and Tyler Bersche) as they approach the capricious voyage of marriage together. It rings with the vigorous infatuation of a Mates of State record, yet there is somehow more suspense.
Nabi Bersche’s songwriting sounds like the tenuous pining of certain Rilo Kiley songs, and yet it resolves. She begins the album pleading, “tell me where I am,” and yet delivers certainty in Ships, singing, “Your soul, my golden compass.” But the transition in between the songs “Moths” and “Statues” ultimately made me nod an emphatic yes to the album. The nostalgic harmonium braided with the roar of the electric organ is like a nuptial dance floor on speed.
I haven’t been so invested in an indie rock album since I can’t say when. Old Bones has the melodic twists and rhythmic oomph to knock over an elderly listener. Be careful Grandma. Like any good marriage, what starts as sparks flying between wing-backed chairs, balances tensions and blissful harmonies, and resolves sweet as any Austen novel. Listen to this album? I do.
