Strand of Oaks wants you to Heal
Please note: This article is published as an archive copy from Philadelphia City Paper. My City Paper is not affiliated with Philadelphia City Paper. Philadelphia City Paper was an alternative weekly newspaper in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. The last edition was published on October 8, 2015.
Timothy Showalter has endured some emotional upheavals in his 32 years.
Timothy Showalter, the Philadelphia singer and songwriter at the center of Strand of Oaks, has endured some emotional upheavals in his 32 years. If you’re a fan of his mostly acoustic work, 2010 album Pope Kildragon in particular — with its heaving, darkly clouded sound and its odes to ruined romance, unrest and revenge — you know this guy hasn’t had it easy.
There are still woeful tales to be told on the new Heal. There’s an ache in his voice as he touches on the ravages of adulthood (booze, destructive relationships) and teen years squandered being “fat, drunk and mean.” It’s that same level of bleary-eyed rumination we’ve appreciated on his previous recordings. It’s just that on Heal, his deeply personal stories are accompanied by a blunter, grander sound.
Showalter brings the rain and the rangy psychedelia on Neil Young-ish songs “JM” and “Goshen ’97,” the latter guest-starring crusty guitarist J Mascis. That he’s gone from acoustic folk to Crazy Horse-like grunge isn’t shocking. It is, however, a surprise hearing him execute ’80s electro-pop (“Same Emotions”) with the sort of anthemic bridges and soaring choruses (“Woke Up to the Light”) usually reserved for glossy, ’90s action-adventures. Showalter even seems giddy reminiscing about skinny-dipping and “singing Pumpkins in the mirror.”
This isn’t his John Hughes moment. Heal is more like when Springsteen went from sensitive Jersey boy to brow-furrowing man, or when U2 left the streets of Belfast and headed into the desert. Heal’s scope stretches beyond the folk skeleton to make room to contain Showalter’s tortured post-breakup, post alcohol-soaked soul.
From the title track’s primal scream of “you got to heal” to his doe-eyed reverence for Jason Molina on the aforementioned “JM,” Showalter lets the light in with one sweep of the curtain. “I won’t let these dark times win/ We got your sweet tunes to play.” Amen, brother.
