You'll Like What I Tell You to Like: Downtown EP

Some years ago I downloaded a free iTunes single by a little-known band from the Queen City called Rah Rah. The song was “Duet for Emmylou and the Grievous Angel.”

“Wow,” said I. Very little music has had the immediate impact on me like that track did. There was so much I liked about it: the six-eight lilt, the fact that they reference Regina (I was born in a town two hours down the trans-Canada; I can practically see the city from my backyard), the plaintive fiddle work, and most of all, the gentle croon of Erin Passmore.

I later picked up the album, Going Steady, and was suitably impressed. I had only one beef with that album, and with the band’s follow-up, Breaking Hearts: there wasn’t enough Erin.

I’m ashamed to say I’ve never seen the band live, but from what I’ve read, Passmore, who also serves as the band’s drummer, prefers to minimize the time she spends in the spotlight. She steps out from behind the drums just once per set—for “Grievous Angel.” And you can hear the modesty in her voice. It’s a subtle sort of greatness, unwilling to call too much attention to itself.

So imagine my delight when I heard about Downtown EP—all Erin, all the time! With eight tracks all to herself, there was room for Passmore to better explore her musical capacity.

It turns out that Passmore is a multi-instrumentalist and a very capable songwriter, but the thing that still gets me is her voice: it’s gentle as a cooing dove on a strong sedative, but just as you’re being lulled to sleep a her powerful high register will blast you from your reverie like a very melodious alarm clock.

The opening track, “Into the Woods,” is arresting, and it’s everything I love about Passmore. It has the melody and rich instrumentation of Rah Rah (I also read that several of the band’s musicians helped her out on the record), but with a more ominous mood. The title itself conjures up visions of Red Riding Hood venturing into the dark unknown.

“Downtown” is the most upbeat track on the album, and the most surprising: the distorted guitar-driven instrumentation is at odds with Passmore’s vocals, but it’s a successful effort. No track blends into the next—whether it be an aching ode to a love that can never be (“Married”) or a should-I-shouldn’t-I lounge ballad on a friend that could be more (“Rock the Boat”), Passmore tackles even stock subject matter with an earnestness that makes it much more than a pop song.

But the momentum wanes in the second half of the EP. If I’d bought the vinyl instead of the digital album I probably would have worn out side one while rarely even listening to side two. It’s not that the final four tracks are bad; I’m just an instant-gratification type of person. “Monster” has a fun picking pattern and folky feel, but “Fall,” “Sad Song” and “Captain” kind of meld together in a slippery slope of unhappiness.

But at least this depressing turn makes me eager to return to the beginning of the album for a second listen. There’s still some hope there.