Makes No Difference from Evin Wolverton’s Woodland Sessions

Evin Wolverton & Clio Wilde

[l1]S[/l1]ome years ago I almost met Evin Wolverton. We both participated in FAWM more than once, and when I heard he’d moved to the San Francisco area, I invited him to perform at the Northern California Artistic Achievement Awards (The Grassies.) Evin was too sick to make it, and we asked Philip Flathead to fill in, which worked out. Except I didn’t get to meet Evin and tell him in person what his music has done for me.

When I found out Evin had a Kickstarter project for his new album, I chipped in. I had exactly a dollar to my name, and I put it in. Didn’t get me anything; anything less than a ten-spot doesn’t even get a copy of the album when it’s finished. That’s okay; Evin’s art is worth supporting and it’s about time I started giving back to the artists that fill my life.

Except, I did get something. Pretty much won the lottery.

All the supporters got a free copy of Evin’s Woodland Sessions, recorded in the wilds outside glorious Mendocino. (Keep reading and I’ll tell you how to get your own free copy.)

The EP is buffet, an eclectic handful of folk, blues, rock, Americana, gospel, pretty much anything you can do acoustically in the middle of the night when you’ve been up for 2 days recording.

The final track has taken me captive, and I’m afraid I’ll never be free again.

Makes No Difference is about lost love, as so many songs are. To steal from Tolstoy, all happy love songs are the same, but every broken-hearted song is sad in its own way. This one is about that space where you’ve just, that moment, accepted that it really is over; they’re not coming back, not now, not ever.

And you realize that everything will be darker, colder, greyer than you thought possible. That all the things you wanted, needed desperately to say, will dry in your throat like the uneaten heels in the bread box. That tears aren’t nearly enough; a forlorn wail, anguished beating your head against a stone, pacing from window to window hoping there’s a light out there somewhere — that the black hole in your ribs is all you have left.

The instrumentation is simple, just acoustic guitar, piano, and two voices: Evin, and Portland singer/songwriter Clio Wilde singing harmonies I’ve only dreamt of before now. A glorious keening wail that’s more about the ache than the words.

Go watch them sit on the floor and cry for the mic to give them the good news they’ll never hear.

And while you’re there, download Woodland Sessions. It’s free. In this case, that means priceless.

Evin Wolverton & Clio Wilde

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