Last January, Brown Horse released “Reservoir”, an album so good that MV said: “the future of Americana might be a band from Norfolk.”
Now, I’m not claiming I’m shy of hyperbole, but it was true. Still, it was their debut—and most bands only have one good album in them.
The best can back it up.
Brown Horse take this thought and run with it. They’re confident and prove it when “Verna Bloom” bursts out with no preamble, showcasing all the class and skill of a truly assured band. What’s fascinating is how it draws you in—you don’t even notice the hook at first… until you can’t forget it.
There’s a quiet beauty to “Wisteria Wine.” The harmonies are so sun-kissed and warm, they feel like they belong in Laurel Canyon circa 1965.
Bands like The Jayhawks built careers on songs like “Corduroy Couch,” but with the guitar work of Patrick Turner and the vocals of Emma Tovell, you could argue this goes one better.
To say this doesn’t sound like it’s from East Anglia almost feels redundant—but it’s worth saying anyway. There are Americana bands straight out of the red dirt who haven’t come close to something as intriguing as “Dog Rose,” with its quirky instrumentation and offbeat charm.
The title track is another with no introduction, but it glows with a quiet allure. There’s poetry in the lyrics, and a charm that’s impossible to fake.
There’s no doubt about the catchiest track here. “Holy Smokes” is the kind of boozy folk anthem you’d expect on a Skinny Lister record—and resistance is futile.
This is a record that takes a couple of listens to fully reveal itself. Only then do you start to appreciate the textures: the subtle, layered brilliance of “Radio Free Bolinas” feels unlike anything else here, but it’s still bound to the others by the same golden thread.
The innate darkness of “Tombland” wouldn’t be out of place on a Jason Isbell record—and praise doesn’t come higher than that.
They’re a blast when they lean into their country side, as on “Curse,” but they’re nothing short of exceptional no matter what they turn their hands to. The lap steel gives “Wipers” a desolate beauty, and the violins on “Far Off Places” blend with the drums to push things even further. And when they sing, “I talk to you even when I am alone,” maybe you believe them more than you’d care to admit.
Perhaps not as immediate as the debut, but “All The Right Weaknesses” moves them beyond “promising.” Rather, they are simply seriously good.
Rating: 9/10
BROWN HORSE – “ALL THE RIGHT WEAKNESSES” (2025)
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