Very Old Morris has officially unleashed its latest full-length release, Boogedy Boogedy Boogedy Shoop, a wildly unpredictable record that refuses to stay neatly inside the boundaries of country, rock, or anything else.
Recorded at Jett Bass Studios in Windcrest, Texas, the album builds its sound from seemingly unlikely ingredients. Pedal steel and fiddle sit alongside distorted guitars, layered harmonies and unexpected mariachi flourishes, creating a version of indie country that can sound nostalgic one minute and completely unhinged the next. At the center of it all is Morris‘ understated vocal delivery. Rather than overpowering the arrangements, the vocals settle into them, allowing the band’s instrumentation and harmonies to carry much of the emotional weight. Jordan Bryant adds another dimension throughout the record, her softer vocal tone contrasting beautifully with Morris while giving several songs the feeling of an intimate duet.
What makes Boogedy Boogedy Boogedy Shoop particularly compelling, however, is the tension between its humor and its heart. The album isn’t afraid to be ridiculous. Songs such as “Howdy Arabia” embrace bizarre Western imagery and surreal cultural commentary, while “That’s No Way To Act” takes aim at modern masculinity through a combination of sharp writing, country-rock swagger and deliberately absurd details. Elsewhere, “Ladies’ Darts Night” drops the listener into the hazy atmosphere of a bar long after the evening has stopped being glamorous.
Yet beneath the jokes is a record that understands how quickly comedy can give way to something much more vulnerable. That shift becomes especially apparent on “Long Oval.” Closing the album, the song strips away much of the record’s playful chaos for a deeply personal exploration of a father-son relationship, inheritance and the possibility of forgiveness. It’s a surprisingly affecting conclusion, allowing the emotional core of the album to emerge without needing to disguise itself behind another punchline.
Very Old Morris also puts its own unmistakable spin on two familiar songs. Iron & Wine and Calexico’s “Sixteen, Maybe Less” becomes a ghostly duet between Morris and Bryant, while The Smashing Pumpkins’ “Thirty-Three” receives a radically different treatment, reinvented with banjo-driven country movement before eventually arriving at a mariachi-inspired finale. But the covers are only part of the story.
The album’s eight original tracks are where Very Old Morris establishes its own strange little universe. There is genuine affection for traditional country music here, but it comes with enough irreverence to keep the record from becoming a straightforward exercise in nostalgia. Instead, the band pulls apart familiar sounds, characters and storytelling traditions and rebuilds them into something witty, melodic and distinctly contemporary. Boogedy Boogedy Boogedy Shoop ultimately feels less like a strict genre exercise and more like Very Old Morris having a conversation with the history of country music sometimes lovingly, sometimes mischievously, and occasionally with a flamethrower.
It’s twangy without being predictable, funny without sacrificing substance, and heartfelt when it matters most. Beneath all the pedal steel, fuzz, fiddle and mariachi surprises is a band that clearly knows how to tell a story and isn’t afraid to make that story weird.
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