Not many songs make me think of Donald Rumsfeld, but in Matt Harra’s slow-burning single “Rottweiler Mom,” the former Secretary of Defense somehow comes to mind. Lyrically, the track reminds me of what the controversial Bush-era political figure–in a context that could not be any more different–called “known unknowns,” as Harra explores the limits of the knowable, uncertain endings, and impermanent relationships. Observing in the aftermath of a breakup that “maybe it’s not for me to understand,” the musician effectively channels the vocal rhythms and timbre of Bill Callahan and a slowed-down Ryan Davis. Still, the song draws on a minimalist composition and a light touch on the drum kit to create an aesthetic that is entirely their own.
The song plays out like a long summer day, one that makes space and time for a thoughtful delineation of epistemological limits. It is a track that offers several compelling images and concrete details, including a Rottweiler who also struggles to understand the ultimate departure of the track’s narrator. The tune is punctuated with well-timed rests, giving the composition a meandering but charming cadence that invites nostalgic invocations of the past and a reckoning with the present. There is a convincing natural world that plays backdrop to this meditation as a “heat dome” blankets the landscape; the trampoline in the yard–a site of nostalgia for the narrator–is now “covered in grapevines.” In listening to this tune, you will feel transported to that summer, and this headspace, and these are the hallmarks of a mature and assured songwriter. I hope we can look forward to hearing more “unhurried folk” from this North Seattle musician in the near future.
Written by SilenceKid
