“Lover you may cause me tears
Drag me through the best of years
But I love you so.

Any of the songs I wrote
Older than a year or two
But I love you so.”

Must absolutely get this out there: I love The Staves so so much. If there was ever an incentive to clear your throat to sing, it’s their perfectly close  harmonies layered over gently plucked strings. I came across them a couple years ago, but rediscovered their work this year via a documentary about touring in VW vans called “austin to boston” and remembered how beautiful they are, and also that they are British. 
The past few days, they’re all I want to listen to, paying close attention to how they divide their parts and soar effortlessly between ranges. For all the talented singer-songwriters out there, for all the talented trios, I think it’s rare to find a sound this instantly mature and realized. Haunting refrains in “Make it Holy” on their 2013 release “If I Was” have me captivated, like play-it-on-the-hour kind of listening, but their debut LP “Dead & Born & Grown” suits this time of year so well, the kind of americana folk blend that feels pure and timeless and heartfelt and warm. Songs are equal parts romantic and independent, walking that line between emotional release and reverent realistic self-awareness, which is also good for fall. There’s some solid auxiliary and accompaniment, but the harmonies steal the spotlight every time. The acoustics are uncluttered and crisp, I love how it is recorded. But even more worth a listen is their live recordings, with harmonies floating through the air. Just beautiful, and not just for its own sake.         
Carry me home on your shoulders
Lower me onto my bed
Show me the night that I dreamed about before.”
The Staves, Dead and Born and Grown