Michael Feuerstack’s “Tambourine Death Bed” Recalls

by Whitney Richardson

Montreal-based singer-songwriter Michael Feuerstack‘s Tambourine Death Bed marks his debut as an artist under his own name. Tackling time-tested themes, the product presents an easy to listen to set of songs presented like a stack of polaroids documenting a sepia-toned trip to the desert, tied with twine in a bow.

Super chill-no frills, the album made through with subtle forms of experimentation, fleeting coos of a trumpet underscore a strumming acoustic guitar. The focus on Tambourine Death Bed seems to be the composition of lyrical notes that convey intimate sentiments of lost direction, longing, consulting maps, seeking signs and visuals of commonality through nature.

The titles serve as frames, creating a shape on which to project sentiments and ideas that offer a glimpse into the writer’s plane of thought. “Leave Me Alone,” a duet with Laurel “Little Scream” Sprengelmeyer, sets up a gentle battle between the sexes. It beats and moans with the desire to protect the self through isolation, covering up feelings by forcing them away. Hospitable in its message, “Leave Me Alone” sounds like a song we’ve all heard before.

Tambourine Death Bed feels like a scaled down version of melody-heavy, lyrics-oriented Bright Eyes with the western lone wolf style of Johnny Cash. “They say you can’t go wrong with the sun and the rain,” sings Feuerstack in “Infidels.” It seems to follow that you can’t go wrong singing about them either. “Scorekeeper,” the final track, waves goodbye with a saxophone outro, creating the illusion of memories, wistful meanderings on times gone by.

Michael’s beguiling voice resonates on a level alongside the melancholic parade of lifelong orphans looking for a home. If you feel lonely, pensive, or need a desert lullaby to send you toward dreams of birds overhead, Tambourine Death Bed awaits you.

Release May 7, 2013