Bria - Cuntry Covers Vol. 1 Review
Hop on your horse, cowboy. Catch the sunset and Bria’s patriarchy-threatening country covers.
The latest Sub Pop signing, Bria, a collaborative act between Bria Salmena and Duncan Hay Jennings, both ex-FRIGS members and currently permanent players in Orville Peck’s band, debuted a six-track EP ‘Cuntry Covers Vol.1’. Tormented by the terrors of 2020, they found reflections of their confusion in the classics. Recorded on the territories of the Anishnaabe, the Haudenosaunee, the Wendat and the Mississaugas of the Credit, the record takes a spin on traditionality, proving that there’s not such a thing as outdated, only not updated.
The EP opens up with a rearranged ol’ country classic ‘Green Rocky Road’, as performed by Greenwich Village legend Karen Dalton. The twangy guitar combined with their echoey, melodic voice hits the nostalgic spot that we hidden deep down, secretly longing for an open road and a lover. Only now, we don’t have to feel that guilty of subscribing to often misogynist culture around the themes but enjoy how Bria tear it subtly down by repainting the landscape.
In Waylon Jennings’ ‘Dreaming My Dreams With You’, Bria guide us to immerse in a lost love dimension, where along with everyone that has already wept to the melancholic riffs and heart-hitting lyrics, we try to learn how to leave feelings behind. As hard it is, Bria’s vocals make it seem breezy and beautiful as if we’re strolling through the coast with star-spangled night as a company.
While dancing to John Cale’s ‘Buffalo Ballet’, Bria reminds us that in the whole modern havoc and chaos, we need to remember to stop and find time to sleep in the midday sun as life will wreck us anyway. On Lucinda Williams’ 2003 ‘Fruits Of My Labour’, the duo draws on the sour, sweet expressions in a refined, laid-back way, especially with a last lines’ statement, ‘If it's, all the same, Take the glory any day over the fame’.
Probably the most intriguing and tradition twisting is their revision of the legendary The Walker Brothers' ‘The Sun Ain’t Gonna Shine Anymore’. Bria slows the pace down and lowers the tone to make sure that the message between the lines’ pierces through the all-too-known words, usually sung by cis-hetero male artists. It was about time to disrupt the narrative. They finish the ride on Mistress Mary’s 1969 ‘I Don’t Wanna Love Ya Now’, letting us submerge in the lost love storyline for their last cuntry dance.
Bria joins Orville Peck in the grand mission of rewriting country to be a space that can serve everyone right. We can only hope that in their next quest, they’ll wield original weapons rather than reinterpretations. No matter how good they could be.