Heartbreaking Bravery

To clear the air: shaping the future of Heartbreaking Bravery is going to be an ongoing process, and posts during that managerial interim are going to be more intermittent than not. But one thing I can say with certainty is that live videos are going to remain an integral part of what Heartbreaking Bravery both covers and produces.

And while the video for The Spine Stealers‘ would-be Tiny Desk submission was not made via an explicit arrangement with Heartbreaking Bravery, it does functionally represent the (partial) shape of forthcoming original multimedia content for this publication. If that doesn’t merit one of those intermittent posts, I don’t know what does.

When Heartbreaking Bravery was at its former apex of publishing, I was only occasionally covering Madison-based musicians. The past six years I’ve honed in on them more than any other sect of artists. And few artists left me spellbound over that run more frequently than The Spine Stealers.

If non-Madisonians need a primer on the aching, indie-folk-indebted band, their discography, and their underlying motives, all of that material is covered in a sweeping Tone Madison profile I authored last fall. Since that profile was published, vocalist and guitarist Kate Ruland announced her departure from the band, but remains involved in the project via a less front-and-center role. The move leaves vocalist and multi-instrumentalist Emma O’Shae as The Spine Stealers’ de facto frontperson.

A rapid-fire recap would mark the band out as prolific performers and chronic new-music releasers. A 2023 Blue Ox Festival win in the “Virtual Band Competition,” a small-but-steady run of national tours, and a lot of local favor all constitute additional footnotes.

Considering all of the above elements, it was a small joy to step behind the camera to shoot a live take of one of their new songs, “Hungover On A Sunday,” for a well-intended, but ultimately ill-fated attempt at a Tiny Desk submission.

Whether or not the deadline for NPR’s signature contest was met, the song at the center of the video deserves its flowers.

“Hungover On A Sunday” is another in a string of haunting, arresting relational narratives that thrive in messily excising heartache, and interrogating it under a microscope. Few bands, in our outside of Wisconsin, are quite as adept at dredging the depths of damaged romanticism of interpersonal relationships—romantic or platonic—and making it feel painfully, unmistakably, hyper-relatably human. (Okkervil River, Lucy Dacus, and Elliott Smith all spring to mind as reasonable comparison points in that regard, implicitly underscoring the degree of The Spine Stealers’ ongoing narrative achievement.)

O’Shae’s voice itself is a perfect complement to those tendencies, creating a baked-in musical back-and-forth that illustrates subtle pain, tints of optimism, and a gnawing uncertainty that’s blanketed over by raw conviction. In O’Shae’s cracks, warbles, and belts exists an emotional core that cuts across as painfully sincere, making ostensibly “pleasant” music confrontational in a way that feels both distinct and immersive. “Hungover On A Sunday” is a perfect vessel for that formula, and opens with one of the band’s best lines to date.

Hungover on a Sunday
Thank God I’m not religious
Burdened with guilt
Though I wasn’t raised Catholic 

What follows is a treatise of lost love, and the accompanying anguish. Core band member James Strelow’s intuitive mandolin playing, session bassist Andy Jones’ colorful upright plucking, and O’Shae’s lilting acoustic strumming (and vocal performance) all operate in harmony to provide a welcomingly cozy atmosphere. In creating that sense of warm familiarity, the ensuing narrative heartache feels oddly comforting; a slice of shared, everyday trauma. And an unshakeable feeling best illustrated by a note-perfect chorus.

Sweet rain, outside, I loved you
Honey dear, you’ll never know this poem’s about you
You’ll never see clear
You’ll never know how many times that I die
Every sunrise without you here

It’s a stunning song, and one that I’m eager to hear in a full studio recording context. As for the video itself, it was good to put some nice equipment to use, and fun to draw some visual inspiration from an old favorite. Shooting it and cutting it all together felt purposeful enough to warrant an update, and a glimpse of things to come.

Enjoy, and stay tuned.