Furrows and the darkly dreamy diorama of 'Never Here'

 

"Isolation / Lose yourself inside / Sit and wonder while / The air sits heavy on you..."


The darkly dreamy diorama of 'Never Here' by Furrows, the project name of singer-songwriter, multi-instrumentalist, artistic nomad Peter Wagner, turns on emotionally drawn vox and deeply grooved indie rock / pop orchestrations. I really love the core urgent rhythms, the piano downbeats and mirrored heavy bass moves that give way to synth-esque strings and bending guitar embellishments. Dip into Peter's upbringing and familial journey (in the press notey stuff below) and you can see that there are oceans of emotions to catch and release. You can feel the tender pain within his voice, inside the falling sounds and within his lyrical prose:

Desolation in the air before your eyes
The silence is a lie
Tearing at the rafters
In every notion that stays hidden deep inside
No one tells you why
All you are is all you’ve ever tried

Of the song Peter shares:

"In 2021, I was struck by the number of people I spoke with who felt changed by the isolation of the pandemic. Many wondered whether their identities were simply a reflection of the people and relationships that had surrounded them. “Never Here” is a lament for lost connection, but it is also a call to turn inwards, perhaps discovering a self rooted in something deeper and unchanging."

'Never Here' is Furrows' follow up to last years album 'Fisher King' that you can check out on his Bandcamp or Spotify.

-Robb Donker Curtius

Furrows · Never Here

THE FACTS AS WE KNOW THEM - PRESS NOTES:

https://furrowsmusic.bandcamp.com/

https://twitter.com/Furrowsband

https://www.instagram.com/furrows_/

https://www.facebook.com/Furrowsounds

https://open.spotify.com/artist/5ro9gllMRAjnFIQCtmum7w


Peter Wagner’s music has a haunting quality to it, grounded by its earthy textures but existing in an ethereal place just out of reach. The songs drift like the misty trails one might imagine ghosts leave in their wake, dreamlike and unforgettable.

Wagner’s life has been one of constant motion, a transient youth informing his current lifestyle, one where the concept of home is an intangible place. He grew up off the DC Beltway, in the cozy suburb of College Park, his home an academic space, littered with books and other pieces of information to get lost in. His mother worked as a lexicographer for the Oxford dictionary, hunting out the earliest usage of obscure words like “mindmeld”. On long drives the two would sing folk songs together, one’s she learned growing up in Texas, harmonizing on the freeway. When he was four, his father’s work as a law professor took the family to Germany for a year, but the trip ended tragically.

Upon their return to the States, Wagner’s parents separated, and he spent the next decade living out of a suitcase, alternating homes every two weeks, his feet never quite touching the ground. During this time, he found a sanctuary in music, practicing piano, singing choir, and eventually studying jazz guitar, where his teacher left a profound impact on him, giving him a glimpse into a lifepath outside of the academia he was steeped in. Halfway through high school he spent a summer at a music camp in Michigan, and the next year had packed his bags and enrolled at Interlochen, a center for the arts nestled deep in the woods and surrounded by lakes.

Naturally, he ended up at Berklee, still deeply immersed in jazz studies, but a difficult breakup set in motion a musical awakening. Wagner discovered Grizzly Bear’s Yellow House, and it shattered his notions of what songwriting could be. He became disillusioned with the jazz community, finding that it encouraged conformity, and was a breeding ground for toxic masculinity. The next few years found him orbiting an incredible community of musicians, a scene that included artists like Adrianne Lenker and Nick Hakim, whose dedication to their craft and pursuit of an original voice inspired Wagner to embark on his own journey as a songwriter.

There’s an accidental rhythm to Wagner’s nomadic life, like clockwork, every two years he was moving cities, or experiencing a huge moment of personal upheaval. His next move took him to Brooklyn, where his first attempt at starting a band ended when the other members left for Toronto. Eventually the crush of New York began to take its toll, skyrocketing rent and the endless cacophony of sound left little room for Wagner’s creative process to flourish, and he left for Baltimore. The sprawling, almost abandoned building he moved into was the perfect space for him to process a lifetime of instability. It was here, inspired by artists like Nick Drake, Daniel Rossen, and Vashti Bunyan that Wagner discovered his voice, tracing the outlines of what would become Furrows' gorgeous and atmospheric sound.

Furrows, indie rock, singer songwriter, alt pop, orchestrated pop, chamber pop, alt rock, psychedelic rock, psych pop, 'Never Here', artist, nomad, Peter Wagner,