'Searows' Sends us Soul-Searching

Listen, I'm always a sucker for sad music, but Searows' discography offers so much more than that. In fact, it feels like a disservice to pigeonhole the Oregon-based folk singer's storytelling as simply 'sad music.'

The indie folk project of Alec Dukhart (he/him) has been haunting me in the best possible way since the spring. His debut album, Guard Dog, a deceivingly reserved collection of stunning confessionals that read like pure poetry, stirs up emotions that are so nuanced and hard-hitting, I had to take six months to sufficiently gather my thoughts and reactions.

So, here goes:

Searows invokes that overwhelming, bittersweet nostalgia I associate with the holiday season - that semi-painful knot in your chest that prods you to reminisce and daydream. His music testifies to the passage of time despite feeling frail and stuck and his lyrics inhabit the space between selves... a scream contained in a whisper.

Usually, I have a seasonal fixation with different musical artists. A resurgence of so-and-so because of their fall vibe or summer feeling. However, Searows' music transcends such categorization of aesthetics. His lyricism is so universally impactful that any day, rain or shine, winter or spring, I can press play and feel like I'm doing more than coping. That my existence, in whatever pared down, vulnerable state I may find myself, is still meaningful. Perhaps even beautiful.

In other words, it's the kind of music that helps you feel open to the world again even when you're hanging by a thread.

So, if you're also the kind of person who routinely uses music for introspective purposes, let me introduce you to the astoundingly beautiful and comforting prose of Searows.

House Song

If you're on the same side of TikTok as me, you may have seen a slideshow of gut-wrenching quotes set to this track, which now has over 10 million streams on Spotify.

"House Song" was my first introduction to Searows' work and is still on repeat during my daily listening. It has a somewhat lulling, dreamlike quality, that renders the listener a ghost revisiting the past.

Sound it out to an empty house

Was it just like you had before

Savior pulled from an open mouth

Did you want to be something more

/

Now you're taller than you've ever been

There's a mark on the wall, you see

I'm sure that someone will draw a new one

And cover it before they leave

This single really achieves the epitome of melancholy. For, where there is vulnerability and longing, there is also peacefulness in the act of reflection. Broadly, it's a song about the passage of time, but it's also, I believe, a moving inner dialogue with one's past self/inner child.

Maybe I'm particularly akin to this theme of communing with one's past and trying to pick up what feels like fragmentations of you left behind from house to house, but this song never fails to get me in my feels. Though, might I clarify, this emotional listening experience comes across as inspiring instead of paralyzing.

Coming Clean

Perhaps my favorite track on the Guard Dog album, "Coming Clean," tells a very nuanced story about what I infer to be interfamilial conflict.

One major highlight is the chorus, which is so astoundingly beautiful in its delivery that you sort of forget the violence of the altercation detailed in the lyrics:

But I don’t wanna be your angel

Wanna see you cut off a limb

Nobody wins

If you killed me

I would have to forgive you still

There's also a motif of mutual destruction at work from chorus to chorus, as the lyrics change ever so slightly from "If I kill you" to "If you killed me." Further, his meditation on death here is tempered by the, dare I say, angelic quality of his voice. (I never get sick of it!)

I should also note that this is the longest track on the album at 6 minutes and 18 seconds, which, if you read my Ethel Cain piece, fits well into my musical preferences. "Coming Clean" flows so openly and freely that it truly does not feel like a long song by any means.

By the end, you feel as if you just poured your heart out and got that horrible weight off your chest. Now you can sit back and let your tears dry.

Keep the Rain

Another hard-hitter on the Guard Dog tracklist. There's something very somber about this song, undoubtedly, but it's dreary without being hopeless if you catch my drift.

It may just be my personal takeaway but I see this track as the most realistic ode to self-love out there. That is, self-love as survival. It directly admits in Verse 1 "I don't think I really like myself" and yet it implores going through the motions nonetheless, using distractions, putting one foot in front of the other.

Am I comfortable in silence?

Or is it eating me alive?

Nothing's ever really quiet

When you need distraction to survive

In other words, "Keep the Rain" became a welcome anthem for me to try and process the feelings of inadequacy and frustration I perpetually harbor. Like the entire album, Searows unfailingly beseeches me to tend to my inner world with kindness, care, and understanding.

I have more than enough

Moving away from the Guard Dog album, this newly-released track from Searows' upcoming EP is quietly hopeful. If I were to ascribe certain songs to certain seasons, this is definitely a nice track for the transition into winter.

It's not Halloween anymore

The colors changed

And you don't have to wait by the door and

There is no reason to be someone else

Your costume's in the basement at the bottom of a shelf

Following the song's release, the artist explained that it was written and recorded in the span of about one day after a period of stagnated inspiration. Consequently, there's this organic, wandering quality to the lyrics that perfectly compliments a stroll in the cool weather.

I must say, I love it when I can really sense the burst of sudden inspiration, the personal catharsis behind a song. "I have more than enough" is a perfect example of that, and the message itself, contained in tender conversation and observation, is strong without being overwrought or cheesy.

Older

The final track I want to share is another soothing single released ahead of his upcoming EP titled "End of the World."

As its title hints, "Older" brings us back to themes of time, identity, and change but with a more intricate storytelling spin.

What's a word for lonely

That doesn't mean alone

And what's that thing you told me?

Something I would understand when I was grown

Underscored by a relationship dynamic - a distinct "you" and "I" - the lyrics play with age as we perceive it in ourselves and others. I think many of the verses are up to interpretation, but what I lean into is how age as this universal, rigid measuring stick for growth is not entirely conducive to the intricacies of the human experience.

Thus, there is a quality of two people being slightly out of sync, each trying to make sense of their own past and present: "You think you look older / I think you look alive."

So, there you have it, my personal ode to Searows, as I count down the days until his EP release on November 10th. I fully recognize that experiencing and connecting with music often transcends words, especially the songs we plainly dub as 'sad music,' which, I insist, should be renamed 'soul-searching music.'

On that note, happy listening and pondering and pacing and, above all, soul-searching. It's all part of the writing process.