Album review: 'Venom & Faith' by Larkin Poe

Venom & Faith

Venom & Faith gives Larkin Poe a compact setting for a wide range of sounds. Rebecca and Megan Lovell draw on blues and American roots music, then build their arrangements with handclaps, electronic rhythms, guitar and lap steel. The songs remain easy to follow even when the details become more unusual. At just over half an hour, the record makes its point without much excess.

Sometimes is a strong introduction. Adapted from a Bessie Jones song, it grows from voices, claps and heavy percussion into a larger arrangement with horns. The mix of old material and modern production establishes the album's approach clearly. Bleach Blonde Bottle Blues follows with a stronger guitar presence and close vocal exchanges between the sisters.

Honey Honey is one of the most effective originals. A simple electronic rhythm supports layered guitars and a vocal that moves between repeated phrases and a more open melody. The arrangement keeps changing in small ways, making the song feel detailed without overcrowding it. California King uses banjo, a sampled beat and expressive lap steel to build a quieter, sadder setting.

There is plenty of direct energy elsewhere. Mississippi features Tyler Bryant on slide guitar, while Blue Ridge Mountains has a riff strong enough to hold its simpler shape. Fly Like An Eagle brings a more electronic rhythm into the sequence. The changes work because the voices and guitar parts remain clear through the different production choices.

The Skip James cover Hard Time Killing Floor Blues takes the music back towards a smaller roots setting. Good and Gone then closes with a sad melody, lap steel and a steady stomp, gradually adding organ without turning the song into a large finale. It is an effective ending to such a short record.

Some listeners may prefer acoustic blues with fewer programmed sounds. The tight running time also leaves little space for the guitar parts to stretch out. Yet Venom & Faith gains much of its character from those limits. The Lovells make each texture serve a song, finding room for strong hooks and clear emotion inside arrangements that are both familiar and inventive.