Navigating the ever-expanding troves of online music communities such as Bandcamp can be a daunting task for those with even an inkling of an idea where to begin. For those like me who have lost themselves many a time down the rabbitholes of low-fi, bedroom pop, or experimental music, finding new artists is much less a task of discovery than one of whittling down the digital music scene's endless supply of talent into something more easily tangible.
I stumbled upon Newfoundman, the musical alias of a New Jersey-based singer-songwriter, after he was featured in music platform Noisetrade's weekly newsletter sometime late last summer. A relatively new face to the aforementioned mob of musicians flocking to digital platforms, Newfoundman seems to have kept a relatively low profile beyond the realm of online sharing - which makes his most recent release, last December's Thrown By This Eastern Wind EP, that much more a hidden gem.
The five-track EP winds its way through beautifully crafted acoustic rhythms, punctuated by the careful poesis of lyrics which are often cryptic enough in their delivery that they demand a second or third listen (to which I have gladly granted them). The quiet beckonings for faith in opener Honest Trails give way to the vulnerability of the stand-out second track, Brittle Boned, carrying echoes of Ed Sheeran's The A Team from its atmospheric palm-muted guitars to its harkening to frigid winter nights. The penultimate offering, a piano ballad entitled No Subject So Old, offers up the lines that give the EP its name ("Thrown by this eastern wind / where you might have been") whilst continuing along the same lines of mystery and wintery nostalgia. My only gripe here is that by the time closer December and the Bear arrives, listeners may perhaps find themselves a little too beaten by the rawness of these wintery nights that seem to compound upon each other from beginning to end. If you are one for seasonal music, however, Thrown By This Eastern Wind should prove an ideal companion in these (hopefully) waning weeks of winter.
