Hawktail’s Formations Soars Over Tennessee

There’s so much a song can convey through notes that lyrics alone cannot. Movement, for instance, like the sensation of riding in a caravan, each bump in the road felt through plucks of a mandolin or the genial elastic hum of a bass; nature, couched either in one’s surroundings or in the mundane passing of weather; emotion, like joy at the sight of the sun rising or melancholy at the year’s first snowfall. (Or maybe snow brings joy, too, at least if you spend time at Ober Gatlinburg.)

Formations, the sophomore album from Nashville folk powerhouse Hawktail, captures each of these experiences and all of these vibes effortlessly, or at least the effort feels lightweight. Making music as impeccable and polished as the seven tracks that comprise Formation’s whole takes years of training and practice. Marrying that level of mastery with the articulate communication of imagery and motifs through instruments alone requires something much more intangible. Nary a word is spoken or sung on Formations, and, yes, art being subject to interpretation, listeners will walk away with their own ideas of what the record is about and what it’s trying to say. But it remains true that whatever you think it’s saying, it’s nonetheless saying something, perhaps about Tennessee’s past, its ancestry, or the simple pleasure of a sled ride.

The trill of Brittany Haas’ fiddle glissades over Jordan Tice’s guitar and Dominick Leslie’s mandolin on “The Tobogganist,” Formation’s fourth track: It’s the sound of wintertime frollicking, which most may not immediately associate with any Southern state. But there’s an upbeat brumal delight of an afternoon spent gamboling about in snowfall woven into Haas’ musicianship: “The Tobogganist” invites our gaiety through sheer elated tempo. It’s a perfect tune for the holidays, for the new year and once the seasons change, it’ll likely serve well as an accompaniment to summer revelry, too (even though everyone’s toboggans will by that time be in storage).