141: Fust - Mountain Language

I meant only to send a message this week, to say that I'm moving house and therefore would need to take a few days away from the screen and the sharing to concentrate on the real world for a little bit.
I don't know if it's tied into that – moving house is such a ball of emotion, everything wound up in tight ends and loose beginnings – but I've been unable to stop playing the new album, and particularly this song, from the North Carolina outfit Fust. Their third in three years, all swaggering and scruffily impeccable, Big Ugly feels immediately like their strongest work, a glorious swirl of barroom barraging and aching, breaking hearts. 'Mountain Language' though? Damn.
You know when you're already feeling – really feeling – a new album, how you're noticing the warmth as it spreads, and then a particular song strikes a particular chord, and elevates the whole thing even more? Mountain Language. Damn.
I was driving, windows down, a car full of old new furniture for another new beginning. Above me the sun shone for the first time in months, carrying new season warmth in its open arms, just when we needed it the most. And in came this song, all swagger, all guts and glory faded by the years. Impossible not to play as loud as possible, impossible to hide from the feelings it stirs as guitars hit, drums crash, and the heavy heart beats on and on and on.
Mountain Language. A one of a kind. Thank you, Fust.
We have our own language
Well I had mine
But yours has all those ways of saying how and why
So we use yours
But I still dream in mine
I still dream in mine
But if we make it up the mountain again
We’ll be back with country friends
And there’ll be language on the mountain again
Oh what country, friends, is this?
Big Ugly is out now, via Dear Life Records. Buy it on Bandcamp
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