Atticus George are going from strength to strength. I featured them back last November when they released their debut single ‘The Reins’, and was intrigued by the feisty, quirky androgyny they displayed, as well as the subtle fusing of a variety of genres and styles, that could have been southern rock just as much as it could have been borrowing from full blown rock, alternative pop and psychbilly. Yet what makes this duo so interesting even seven months later is that they are comprised of a mother and daughter. Headstrong, beautiful, well-educated (she’s just graduated from Belmont Law School), Atticus is an enigma as much as that prior description might place her as the all-American girl. She is kooky, surprising, and wonderfully weird, and some things are just hereditary because her mother JC also displays those qualities. In a world, and most particularly a genre, where mother-daughter acts sing lovely, maternal songs to each other, only getting as sassy as to detail the anger following a break-up, Atticus George stray from the norm and present a cool alternative.
And it is cool. Cool is hard to manufacture, but there’s no soppiness here, as even the love songs have an edge to them that refuses to fall back into old structures and pop formulas. ‘Ever After’ for example, centers itself around tumbling, chaotic lyricisms, inter-rhymes and a curious approach to rhythm, all the while weaving a truly original way of telling someone you love them. All this against a big, catchy power-chorus and pop/rock instrumentation accentuated by a strong banjo line, plus a delivery that has as much swagger as a middle class white girl can have without pushing it to sound ridiculous. After this and the dominance of ‘The Reins’, which describes the taking back of power in work and relationships, the carefree abandon of Californian rock ‘Winnebago’ sounds almost tame, yet nonetheless a really strong track with a killer singalong chorus that you’d be hard-pressed not to love.
‘On This Road’, too, could have gone in that direction, and at times it feels like it has. “My stories left in blood on my guitar strings, I’m a little too wild, what you don’t know ‘bout me”, Atticus sings, and this could easily be another highway-orientated celebration. The bluesy, southern rock sound screams the same message, and yet when one delves into the lyrics, it becomes clear she is in fact declaring her eternal love for Music Row in Nashville. This is exactly why the pair are so interesting, because everything they do defies the norm, refuses to fit in or even use a standard approach to making music. Where they could have recorded a cheesy, unoriginal tribute to the home of country music, instead they not only rock out but they take an angle that captures the magic and the recklessness of life as a musician, snapshotting brilliantly and all the while remaining as cool as they have always been.
So when ‘Wonder’ shows a true vulnerability, a nuanced insight into the well-known phrase “not all those who wander are lost”, it takes a minute to settle in. With all the sass and glint of the eye Atticus displays, the fragility of her delivery and the guard she lets down becomes a lovely, gentle moment among a raucous showcase. Atticus George may be fabulously weird, but they’re also great musicians, and that’s the distinction that’ll ensure their long-term success.
