4 out of 5

Produced by: Chris Common, Jesy Fortino

Label: Sub Pop

While Jesy Fortino might have any given reason for having selected her solo nom de plume, personally, Tiny Vipers provides this perfect sense of sneaking insidiousness that matches her sound.  While certainly of the sparse, acoustic crowd, Fortino’s unique arrangements, occasionally atonal vocals, and rather oblique narratives put her on an outsider track.  Producer Chris Common helps to ground this in a beautifully Earthy reverb, yet one that plays to an open, desolate field, such that when extra accoutrements appear – supporting vocals, feedback – they’re a wondrous shock to the ears.

The album is front-loaded with its most memorable moments, with the straightforward opener Canpfire Resemblance actually setting things off with a pace above ‘snail,’ peaking with the killer Forest On Fire, which concludes with a building, destructive wall of noise.  The simple and charming Shipwreck then gives way to the album’s last two tracks, which are comparatively underwhelming given the album’s previously achieved heights: Swastika is a puzzling ten minute wanderer that, though pretty, stops and starts again in its middle without clear rhyme or reason, and doesn’t seem to grow beyond its single guitar plucked tune in each half; closer The Downward admittedly builds to a pretty stirring conclusion, but at eight minutes, it takes a bit too long to get some steam going post the previous track.

So while these last two songs, paired together, aren’t standouts, the emotion and energy delivered by Fortino on the rest of the album more than earns her that reprieve.

There are certainly sounds-like poetic, acoustic bands out there, but Tiny Vipers might appeal to those interested in the darker side of that genre.  Hands Across the Void is cryptic, bleak stuff, beautifully produced and confidently presented.