Music

Underhill Rose

Voodoo Rooms, Edinburgh

Rob Adams

four stars

THERE is a school of thought that says it takes a lot of hard work to make something appear effortless. So we can only imagine the hours that Underhill Rose have put into their live presentation.

Except for certain factors that put a more exact date on matters – such as their versions of pop songs – the trio from Asheville, North Carolina have a sound that could belong to almost any time in the last hundred years or so, possibly longer. There’s an old-time quality in their songwriting, an awareness of the mountain music tradition from their own locale, and yet they also pack a pop sensibility that gives songs like Little House, with its lovely refrain, and the slightly more jazz-influenced The End of 27, a sophisticated catchiness that’s hard to resist.

Playing guitar, banjo and string bass respectively, Molly Rose Reed, Eleanor Underhill and Salley Williamson sing in voices that never sound forced, gently find their place in each song’s melodic structure, and soothe with soft harmonies.

They’re storytellers essentially, retailing memories of macho cowboys in Montana helping them carry their gear, and living to regret it. Their gorgeous take on John Prine and Keith Sykes’ Long Monday is preceded by a charming tale about tracking the latter down to ask for his blessing that involved dragging him away from his dinner rather than going through some percentage-charging business connection.

Bobbie Gentry’s Ode to Billy Joe’s charm radiated their down-home and honest singing of it, and if the Whispering Pines Motel isn’t paying them a marketing fee just for making its name sound desirable, then someone should have a word.