I’m the type of listener prone to fall hard for a well-worded phrase or well-timed sigh. The magic is in the nuance. When I heard Vermont singer-songwriter Henry Jamison’s “Real Peach” a few weeks ago and heard the lamenting “oh” after recounting how his tameness disappointed a “lioness-esque woman”, I knew I was in trouble. His next single, “Through A Glass”, had me dumb grinning to myself at the stuttering vulnerability of “god-god-goddamn the girl was fine”. Today we are pleased to premiere a third single from Jamison’s upcoming EP, “Dallas Love Field”, and I once again find myself enamored at the probing repetitions of “did it?” and later “did I?”.
But it’s not just Jamison’s unique delivery that has me swooning, he has a way of spinning stories that conjure imagery so vivid it’s like viewing a home video or thumbing through worn polaroids. “Dallas Love Field” speaks of a lover who “sings of apple trees and blossoms”, and then they’re “riding their bikes to the dive bar at the edge of town”. The tale is sentimental but also acutely self-aware as he also sings of wrestling with false persona. They’ve “glanced the gilded edges of their identities”. The melody is warm and dreamy and, much like the preceding two singles, I find Henry Jamison’s “Dallas Love Field” all too easy to get lost inside. I think you will, too.