Word of mouth will always be the best way to find new music. So when Squirrel Flower among my favourite indie-rock artists this year. She recently took to Instagram to congratulate Merce Lemon on her new album, “Watch Me Drive Them Dogs Wild“, Up too that moment I’d never heard Lemon’s music, but upon hitting play on this nine-track body of work, the first moments of the opening song, “Birdseed,” provided a succinct sonic thesis statement: delicate yet sultry vocals; acoustic strums with a subtle swing; warm, inviting vocal harmonies; lyrical imagery that’s profound in its myriad emotions.
“Birdseeds between all of my teeth / I’ve been eating like the birds / So maybe I’ll grow wings / Wouldn’t that be something?” At one moment, the idea of having birdseed stuck in her chompers sounds like a nightmare, at the next she catalyzes optimism in flying free after enduring the discomfort.
Merce Lemon built her latest album: “Watch Me Drive Them Dogs Wild“. These are earnest songs, of belonging and longing, in which romantic and familial love rip into and out of themselves in a flurry of reckoning. There is a fierceness, a persistence in this vulnerability, that is matched by the wildness of her band. Merce took a step back from music in 2020, after releasing her debut album “Moonth”, to reassess. “[Music] was just something I’d always done, and I didn’t want to lose the magic of that – but I was just having less fun.” In this time of restless confusion, she got back to her roots. “I got dirty and slept outside most of the summer. I learned a lot about plants and farming, just writing for myself, and in that time I slowly accumulated songs.” A creative hunger, supported by her community, had been newly fertilized. From this rediscovery, imbued 7 with the vitality of earth’s green magic, “Watch Me Drive Them Dogs Wild” sprouted forth.
Then the rest of the band comes in with twangy electric guitar and a rhythm section that effortlessly propels the song forward. Right off the bat, she presents the album as what it is: an exploration of reality through musical fantasy.
“Slipknot” doesn’t lean into clown-masked heavy metal like you’d think it might, but rather depicts a tumultuous relationship held together only by its namesake, coming loose in the wake of a powerful guitar solo. Lemon’s voice dominates the title track, expressing tones without any clear form, as if she’s reacting to the dogs she’s driving wild—or, rather, the love interests who never seem to understand or appreciate her. And while those thoughts weigh on her, she’s driving her fans wild in the best way possible.
The Fat Angel Sings 