In the tender weave of “Shears,” Aoun and his eclectic ensemble craft a haunting tapestry that mirrors the twilight of love. An expedition into the slow, burning ember of folk rock, this piece is both an eulogy and an epiphany wrapped in the minimalistic charm that only acoustic instrumentation can deliver.
Aoun’s vocals are raw yet refined, threading through melancholy with precision—a siren beckoning from the ruins of affection. Supporting him, Guillermo Goldschmied’s bass pulses like a heartbeat at rest; Eli Fowler’s drumming is the gentle tapping of rain on a window pane—the promise of renewal amidst despair. Yet it’s Sean Brennan’s cello and Tree Palmedo’s trumpet that stitch “Shears” into its epic stature, their improvised bursts evoking shades of Black Country, New Road while illuminating paths unfollowed by their predecessors.
Recorded in Aoun’s personal Brooklyn studio—where brick walls have absorbed tales untold—”Shears” emerges as much from silence as it does sound. Its production whispers intimacy; every pluck, bow stroke, or breath was conceived not just to be heard but felt deeply. Featuring Big Dumb Baby adds another layer to this introspective journey—like finding notes left in margins by previous readers underlining messages that echo long after music fades.
“Shears” doesn’t merely reflect on endings; it revels in acceptance—not as defeat but as partaking in life’s cyclical dance. As each note lingers in air thick with resignation and resolve one realizes: endings too can be breathtakingly beautiful.
With influences nodding respectfully towards genres transcended and artists unbound by conventionality (think Nick Drake meets Sufjan Stevens), Aoun has not crafted mere music here but an experience—an intimate soirée between listeners and musicians where each chord strummed or note belted resonates universally.
The result? A captivating record destined to linger on playlists—and hearts—for seasons to come.
