by Brendan Menapace (@brendanmenapace)
Most of us emerged from 2020 as different people in some way – for better or worse. Russell Edling – specifically his indie rock outfit Cherry, through which he’s released two EP’s and an LP – was now called Golden Apples, beginning with the July release of the full-length Shadowland on Lame-O Records.
Like so much music created during the pandemic, it’s hard not to look at things through that lens of isolation. Whether or not it was Edling who had spent that year in Shadowland – or even what Shadowland is – is up for interpretation. Was it the literal confines of his home or was it something more metaphorical?
Starting with the overture of “Welcome to Shadowland,” Edling makes repeated references to this place. Whether you choose to believe it’s a physical place he’s stuck in as a result of 2020, or a mindset he’s stuck in where the sunlight can’t reach, there’s room to relate. There’s equal evidence of both. For starters, the album’s artwork is a claustrophobic floor plan of a small living space, but dappled with splashes of color against the drab background, playing into that idea of sunlight peeking through, or being all around, but he’s unable (or unwilling) to be a part of it. “Garbage” centers around a mantra “I never wanted to be anything / I never wanted to be anyone.”
He sings on “Wildflowers” about “hiding from the sun in Shadowland,” and a dying flower “shining in the saturated color of my tired emo stuff,” conveying a feeling that the world around him is, ostensibly, perfect in all of its sunshine and color, but he’s focusing on the shadows created by all of the sun. Maybe it’s a take on literally hiding from the outdoors while the world outside is so dangerous, or a shitty job where, as he says again on “Garbage,” “the coffee’s free.”
The name has changed, but musically it’s not a stark departure from Edling’s work as Cherry. It still harkens back to garage-y, fuzzy, cerebral indie rock that shares characteristics with Ty Segall, David Bazan, and the Beach Boys equally. Edling keeps multiple plates spinning in each song, weaving distorted and tinny guitar into full-bodied acoustic rhythms, creating mass without relying on becoming loud. New instrumental tracks pop for a moment here and there. Like his guitar, Edling’s vocal tracks toggle back and forth between payphone-esque and crystal clear. It’s a clever way to disorient the listener, never letting them fully settle into one particular aesthetic and never letting them get bored. Above all, if Edling does nothing else on Shadowland, he keeps you interested.
These dispatches from Shadowland, in their glitchy way, paint a picture that feels like a combination of a Don Hertzfeld cartoon and a War on Drugs album cover – absurd, shaking, cutting and witty, dark, but with little hints of color if you look in the right spots. They’re held together by little vignettes, giving the impression of moving through some space that a lot of “gapless” albums create – an ironic and confusing sensation for an album that simultaneously conveys such loneliness and stagnation.
Whatever Edling’s Shadowland is, and however long he’s been there, by the end of the album he’s happy to be out. He wants you to stay out of it, too, despite the welcome. On the cleverly named “Fun II” in the album’s final act, Edling’s narrator tells you (and maybe himself) to “plant a flower in your window, let it grow above the shadow.” That line breaks the fourth wall a little, since one version of the vinyl record comes with real flower seeds. Edling closes out his meditation on isolation, whether self-imposed or not, with the declarative “I Don’t Want the Shadow.”
The last year was a period of self-reflection for everyone. Some of us handled it better than others. Even with the best work/life balance, scheduling regimen and TikTok coffee trends, it’s possible to fall back into that Shadowland. Hell, that’s a looming threat even without a global disaster.
Edling came out of the space he recorded this album and his own Shadowland renewed with a rebrand (that at least stays within the fruit category) and a quintessential “pandemic album” that came out in the post-vax summer. Hist first official release as Golden Apples might’ve focused on the shadows, but the future for Edling and Golden Apples is bright as hell.