Review: Ok Cowgirl – ‘Couldn’t Save Us From My Gut’
Despite what your parents may have you believe, it takes a tremendous amount of time to get over it. A relationship, a negative outlook on yourself, failure in all its forms — whatever it is, these are pains that linger in the mind and body for years. And in your twenties, the emotional constipation might prevent you from actually letting go, even if the moment has turned into a toxic vestige you know is unneeded. Brooklyn indie act Ok Cowgirl’s debut album poses this question: “Can you save yourself from your gut?”
Couldn’t Save Us From My Gut is a progressive unclenching of veins, temples, and other things as lead singer Leah Lavigne raspily narrates an adventure of giving in that is devastating, foreboding, and soul stirring. There is a certain existential doom here, but I come away from the record fixated on sprites of joy and growth tumbling from the bitter pills swallowed. Despite these imposing emotions, no track leaves you in the lurch. There’s a rope with a promise of escape from this terrible time.
“Things are good… why do I feel so bad all the time?” Lavigne writes in this introspective Instagram post foregrounding the inspirational heft of the album. The first track on the album “Little Splinters” features a cavalcade of expectations unmet in its lyrics: “I’m going to plan too many coffee dates / And when morning approaches that’s when I will flake.” Who hasn’t been through the anguish of simple decisions casting overwhelming shadows? The track is uplifted by ripping guitars that cut through white noise. The idea of all of us are “little splinters” digging into other people’s lives and vice-versa is deeply felt, and is a recurring motif in the bluesy “Mars Cheese Castle” later in the album. And the thought of little splinters growing into trees is both hopeful and gruesome.
To follow is “Forever” and “Our Love,” two of the most heartbreaking tracks on the album. On “Forever,” Lavigne entertains the idea of leaving a committed relationship if forever was real: “If I knew I would live forever / I might leave you and try to come back.” Plagued with hyper awareness, the tune becomes spacious and haunting with twangy, hollow guitar textures and a ghostly backing vocal if you listen closely. Paired with “Our Love,” these ruminations of leaving have turned real. “Oh I believe the truest love / Doesn’t have to last forever,” Lavigne laments. “Screw the tyranny of time,” she proclaims, as nature has taken its course with a relationship way past the rocks.
The next track on the album is “Larry David.” When this was released as a single a couple months ago, it was difficult to parse out what its significance would be in the album. It is hands down the most fun, catchy, and meme-worthy song of the record… that I have admittedly been singing nearly every day. Within the context of the album, it’s the “fuck it” point. Everything has gone wrong and everyone needs to know even though no one cares. That levity and feeling is passed on to the more upbeat “On My Mind” and “Swirling” with curtain flutters and booty calls.
The final three songs deal with disconnection. “Diner Song” gives us a checked-out, glazed-over Lavigne wanting to get away from the shell of a relationship. “Abbey” is the story of a friendship stretched across a mournful time and distance. The album closes with “Nighttime Thinking,” a triumphant understanding of mortality, a disconnection from self-flagellating ego, and my favorite track on the album. Carrying immense sonic influence from the likes of The Cranberries, the song features a monk-like recognition of “learning how to live” life itself. “I see me for what I am / Just a body made from chance / Just a soul that gets too heavy / Just a mind that can’t stay still,” she sings. Every time I hear this song (and I have, a loooooot), I am struck by its heavy drums, Lavigne’s lyrical nirvana, and rich ascending spirit. This song makes every other song on the album even better.
It takes a lot of guts to make an album that faces sadness, disappointment, failure, and loss without romanticizing the suffering. At its core, I believe Couldn’t Save Us From My Gut is about freedom — the type of freedom you give yourself that involves forgiveness, humility, and reflection. From “Nighttime Thinking”: “I am fluid / I am floating / I am tethered / I am soaking” are the truths of surviving and still trying again. I feel empowered listening to this album and recommend it to anyone who needs the threat and the fear of tomorrow to transform into the promise of today — so says my gut.
Ok Cowgirl’s Couldn’t Save Us From My Gut is out now via Easy Does It Records.
Header photo by Alex S.K. Brown.
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