#max knouse

The main event, however, remains Knouse’s thready tenor and deep-in-the-pocket licks. His bent towards surreality begs comparisons with Michael Hurley. In somnolent “Like a Rocket Stage,” he contemplates an infestation of bees in his kitchen; the landlord explains they’re just looking for a hive. It’s just off reality, possibly a metaphor, but delivered in a slow, plain-folks drawl. It blends down-home charm and otherworldly mystery and goofy humor. Lend out your phone to a stranger, Knouse’s friend warns, and you’re going to get a late night return call, at “2 and 3 and 4.”

Really simple, really unadorned songs can turn tedious quickly in the wrong hands. The scrubbed bare magic only works for performers who can imbue their songs with spirit. Knouse does this best in late album track “Gold Leaf and a Silver Alert,” the song with the loveliest melody, the most heartfelt delivery. There’s a real Neil Young feel to the acoustic picking here and some of Buck Meek’s naked vulnerability. “Angel’s Share” is also quite good, its acoustic guitar shadowed by surprisingly rowdy bass plunks and slaps of offbeat snare. The verse ruminates on what it was like to be young and untethered. “It’s raining down where you and Carly live/ I’m 19 just off a graveyard shift/pouring myself back in the shape you know/two skinny legs in a long brown coat,” Knouse confides in a casual, talk-sung way, then moves towards the chorus, much sweeter with fillips and slides embedded in the tune. “That’s all right, I’m leaving you the angel’s share,” sings Knouse.

This is not the kind of album that stops you in your tracks right away. It’ll grow on you over multiple listens until what sounded plain turns rich with emotion and true.