Couldn’t Be Happiers have unfurled their new album, “Couple(t)s,” and it’s rather like stumbling upon an old, leather-bound book of family anecdotes in your grandmother’s attic – one full of unexpected truths you’re not entirely sure you’re ready for, but curiosity, that insatiable little terrier, just won’t leave it be. The duo, Jodi Hildebran Lee and Jordan Crosby Lee, aren’t just harmonizing notes; they’re harmonizing human anxieties, sifting through the common grit of our shared experiences.

“Couple(t)s” digs its lyrical fingers into the messy soil of loss, the persistent itch of unresolved pasts, and that almost bewildering quest for meaning. It’s as if they’ve eavesdropped on our collective internal monologue—the one we usually keep under wraps—then set it to a surprisingly agile, if occasionally shadowed, folk-rock rhythm.

The sound itself, a kind of rootsy rock wearing a comfortably worn velvet waistcoat (with perhaps a faint, lingering scent of damp earth and old maps about it), meanders from jaunty New Orleans second-line grooves to moments that feel almost… industrially pensive? It’s the kind of music that might make you suddenly recall the exact, peculiar taste of wild sorrel you once picked on a dare, for no discernible reason.

They seem to be proposing, with a certain quiet insistence, that folklore and a well-placed protest song might just be the poultice for what ails our rather bewildered modern sensibilities. The album’s title, “Couple(t)s,” cleverly winks at their own partnership and the poetic form itself – this idea of two distinct entities locking together, forming something new, perhaps stronger. It’s a bit like finding two perfectly mismatched gloves that, against all odds, keep your hands warmer than any matched pair ever did.

There’s a persistent thread of just… trying. Trying to make sense of the beautiful, baffling nonsense of it all, to offer support when your own well feels dry, to maybe leave a small, positive mark, like those incredibly patient people who build tiny, intricate clockwork birds – delicate mechanisms whose eventual flight paths, like the album’s reflections on unintended consequences, are tricky to predict. This collection doesn’t offer tidy solutions; it mostly just pulls up a chair beside you in the thoughtful silences.

So, what if the most enduring connections aren’t forged in shouted certainties, but in the quiet, collective hum of wondering about it all together?

Website, Facebook, YouTube, Instagram

Find them on Link