Beginning with what sounds like the audio from an old family video, Apples & Honey is, from the outset, clearly deeply personal. Hailing from Montreal, Quebec, Canada, Vincent Yelle wrote, recorded and produced these six tracks himself, and the overarching theme is family.
Lighthouse is the first track on the EP and is as tender as the day is long. It’s pensive, poignant and delicately poised. It’s clearly about his departed father, and the sheer amount of love on show is enough to get anyone right in the feels. But then, if you listen to Spotify, you meet the canvas. Those little video clips that accompany the playback of songs. We switched to the app whilst typing out our initial thoughts on the song, and we were immediately choked up by what we saw. Pair that with lyrics like “you’ll be the only ghost in me I’ll be happy to carry” and “oh father shine me a path from your lighthouse” and it will break even the hardest of hearts.
Musically, it’s a folky, collage of sounds and elements – the acoustic guitar picking is stunning and works beautifully with the subtle bassline and sorrowful sentiment. We’re reminded, in parts, of Elliott Smith and Lonely Dear – specifically in the approach to the songwriting, melody and the delicate approach.
The next song – the title track – begins similarly to the first, with an audio recording playing behind a layer of gentle classical guitar. The French-Camadian Elliott Smith vibes are back (due, we think, mostly to the combination of acoustic guitar and double-tracked vocal) and, again, the heartstrings are tugged to the point of snapping due to lyrics like “you held my arms and said never let me go, oh no, but then I let you go”. The song gets bigger and noisier about two-thirds of the way through as a spoken word part is introduced, backed by a scenic cacophony of sound. And then, as it concludes, it reduces back down to a solo guitar (not a guitar solo – important distinction!) and it is as understated and sincere as it was at the start.
Passing begins with birdsong (recorded by Vincent’s father, no less), and it is accompanied by another gorgeous classical guitar performance. It’s also peppered with electronic blankets, bleeps and bloops, adding tonal texture and variety to the piece. There are snippets and snapshots of other moments here, too – audible memories from the Yelle family history that I’m sure are very significant to the composer. Utilising really not very many components or tools, Passing seems to evoke strong nostalgic feelings for people you never knew and for places you’ve probably never been. You feel like you’re there. Superimposed into the background of the Yelle family videos and photo albums.
Berry Bunny begins with a fond recollection. “Do you recall the gentle breeze by the lake?” and again, they were instantly transported. The instrumentation is minimal – as it has been throughout the EP thus far – but this feels even sparser than what has come before, for the majority of the song. By the time the chorus of “I love you, no matter what” comes around, you get the distinct impression that this song is about Vincent’s own child. Again, looking at the Spotify canvas, these suspicions are seemingly confirmed as we’re met with modern-looking footage of a beautiful little girl with humongous blue eyes. I’m sure her Daddy is immensely proud of her. It certainly sounds like it. As the song nears its end – much like the title track – it evolves to include additional instrumentation and a voice recording and becomes a stirring melange of sound, growing larger and more confident and abrasive.
Hydra is up next and, according to the artist, it “delves into the complexity of family legacies, between shame and acceptance”. We couldn’t really speculate on what this means exactly, but musically, we’re met with a bit of a point of difference on this song, with the introduction of drums. It makes for a nice, albeit slight, deviation in style. Tonally, it’s firmly in the alt-folk arena – we’re reminded of acts like Monsters Of Folk and Midlake – and some of it even feels almost country-esque. The use of shimmering slide guitar (or pedal/lap steel perhaps?) conjures the spirit of innumerable legacy acts gone before, but the overall sound brings them right up to the modern day.
Finally At Peace is the last song on the release and begins with a glistening solo piano part. A ghostly vocal comes into the background, which feels transformative and transcendental, and as the song grows and the main vocal kicks in, the family puzzle is complete. The tapestry of sound is also complemented by the introduction of what sounds like a mandolin (used for the first time on the EP, we think). Reading the lyrics, it almost feels like it’s a musing on the author’s own eventual death. We could be reading it completely wrong, of course, but – whilst obviously quite morbid – this feels like a fittingly beautiful way to round off a stunningly personal and artistically striking collection of songs. Near the end of the song, the vocals end and the music blooms into an abstract, ambient, ethereal soundscape that serves as a final send-off to this unforgettable auditory experience.
Written by Kinda Grizzly
