Itasca’s Imitation of War is a record that sounds both rooted in history yet alive and breathing as it responds and feels a way through the present-day traumas that engulf us.
Songwriter and guitarist Kayla Cohen, who performs under the name Itasca and has been releasing music under this identity for close to ten years now, is realising fresh impetus as well as developing a unique musical identity on her new album Imitation Of War. We are lucky to have so much quality Americana pushing into our ears and heads these days, and Itasca shines brightly as one of the best. Her music exists in a parallel universe all its own. Everything you hear has a sense of the familiar, and yet nothing is quite how you remember or expect. These are songs and instrumental pieces that send the listener into a kind of trance, a space where multiple parts appear to be blending at once and even on repeated listens, they never quite feel like they are the same piece as before. New levels of interest and intrigue keep getting unlocked. Also very evident here is that the Itasca sound is moving slightly towards a rockier hue than previous albums. With Robbie Cody in the co-producer’s chair, this is a record that will pay back in kind with repeated listens.
The album begins as if slowly coming into view over the horizon. The guitar work has a hazy, vaguely out-of-focus phosphorescence that entices your interest without truly revealing its intentions. It is chiming and vibrating in the air, something akin to an ungrounded sensation is evoked as these strokes, chimes and contortions float in the air. Kayla is responsible for all the guitar work herself, whilst her voice is not at the forefront of these song forms in any conventional manner. Instead, vocals seem intertwined with the motion of the music, both being so tightly connected that it is hard to hear one without the other. This sense of the tracks all deriving from the same weaving threads applies to the entire forty-minute album, where everything is united in its tone and feel. As early as track four, there is a very deliberately placed link track called ‘Interlude’ that simply yet beautifully feels its way through intricate and pastoral shapes with more than a hint of Classical Renaissance music to it.
Album opener Milk is a dream in song of Genevieve, although as is the case throughout this journey, no precise meaning or form is nailed down definitively; everything is allowed the freedom to float or fly. So, it is unclear whether Genevieve is a fifth-century saint or a heroine of medieval legend. Under Gates Of Cobalt Blue has some exquisite semi-acoustic and electric guitar shapes played with the panache and touch of a classical musician, all finely picked patterns and grandly strummed chord shapes and movements. Dancing Woman returns to the lush acoustics in its introduction, a style that actually inspires images of rural England rather than the Los Angeles terrain Kayla calls home.
Proceedings close with Olympia standing at the shore, and once more, we are left with the stretched and tangled incertitude of Cohen’s music, a smoky melange of thoughts, images, wisdom and wonder pulled from the past to speak to us today. It is a record that sounds both rooted in history yet alive and breathing as it responds and feels a way through the present-day traumas that engulf us. Ultimately, the move that Itasca executes best is the way her music can stimulate thoughts, moods and feelings without any desire to land on resolutions; everything is about the moment, then you move onto the next. Imitation of War is an album overflowing in wonderous moments.