Last October, Last October

(Last October Music, CD)

Here’s a confession: I really wanted to dislike the self-titled debut record from Mad River Valley-based duo Last October [1]. To explain, I need to avail myself of a dirty little music-scribe secret. You see, the fastest way to lose a critic’s interest is to prattle on about how much music means to you. Your music, someone else’s music, music in general … it doesn’t matter. If, as a musician, you need to explain that music is important to you, the odds are high you’re not very good at it. Otherwise, why the hell are you/we here? But I digress.

In preparing to review Last October, I started doing a little background research on the band. That’s when I discovered this eye-roll-inducing nugget in their bio material: “Honing their crafts from opposite sides of the country, Erica Stroem and James Kinne [2] came together through their sheer love and respect for music.” Awww. (As an aside, have any musicians ever come together over a shared hatred for music?)

But then I pressed “play.” And I realized I was wrong.

Kinne and Stroem share more than an affinity for music. As Last October, they seem to share one mind. Or — cheese alert! — one soul. Like so many great male-female Americana duos, past and present — Emmylou Harris and Gram Parsons, Gillian Welch and David Rawlings, etc. — they complement one another so much that it’s hard to envision one without the other.

That’s not to say Last October are on par with those aforementioned greats. They aren’t — yet. But their debut is a stirring exposition of the power of intimate artistic collaboration, and is an undeniably enjoyable listen.

Kinne is a veteran local tunesmith and a member of “folkgospel grassicana” outfit Phineas Gage. His experience and savvy lends the project ballast. His sweet, reedy croon is a perfectly measured foil to Stroem’s more emotionally charged delivery, especially on album opener “Down This Road.” Here, the duo weaves vocal lines together in beautifully soothing, dovetailing fashion.

At moments — “All You Do,” for example — Last October do tread awfully close to feel-good, folk-pop schmaltz. Yet, rescued by an irresistible homespun charm, they never fully tumble. Frequently throughout the record, and particularly at that song’s winding chorus, there’s a naked vulnerability in the pair’s performance that is simply impervious to cynicism. So, I apologize, Last October. I do believe you melted my heart.

Last October play Two Brothers Tavern in Middlebury this Friday, Novermber 11.