After close to a decade with And the Kids, a well-regarded indie group from Western Massachusetts, Hannah Mohan steps out on her own with Time Is a Walnut. It’s folky, pop and rock, with confessionals one moment and sly misdirections the next. It’s the kind of album that drops a trumpet solo when you’re anticipating guitar, then goes all fuzzy staccato when you expect brass to drop in the pocket. It’s an utter delight, in other words, eccentric and fun even while plumbing the depths of the post-breakup blues.
Yes, a relationship’s messy aftermath drives the album’s dozen songs, which are credited to Mohan and producer Alex Toth (of Rubblebucket), though it’s (thankfully) devoid of any “woe is me”-type ballads. They recorded in her basement and, for overdubs, his Brooklyn home, and play all instruments. Lady Lamb (the onetime beekeeper) provides backing vocals on one song, while Christina Anagnost harmonizes elsewhere.
The album opens with the title track, which recounts how Mohan expected her relationship to be forever—but was proved wrong. “Therapist” finds her sitting up on a make-believe couch and speaking a sad truth to her partner: It’s over. “Soaked,” dedicated to couch potatoes the world over, recounts waking from a dream or nightmare. “Everything’s feeling all right,” she sings, with the aforementioned trumpet solo adding a Bacharach-like accent to the goings-on. It’s quite cool.
“Heaven and Drugs” celebrates altered consciousness, astral projection and escape. “Problems,” on the other hand, grounds itself in reality. “Hell,” meanwhile, features former honey farmer Aly Spaltro (aka Lady Lamb) in vocal support and is somewhat akin to Harry Potter’s invisibility cloak. It masks Mohan’s pain behind a sing-a-long arrangement that fulfills its goal by song’s end.
“Runaway” and “Peace Be the Day” are essentially two sides of the same coin. “You screwed my world and then you put it back together,” she recounts in the former, remembering how her ex provided the GPS coordinates for both happiness and whatever antonym you choose to use. The latter, on the other hand, digs into the questions that haunt her about their time together; it’s a taut little rocker that reminds me of Liz Phair circa Exile in Guyville.
“Upside Down” isn’t the old Diana Ross song, though that could’ve fit the album’s theme in an ironic kind of way, but a moving ode to love’s aftermath, when pessimism gives way to a hope imbued with caution. It sounds like a lost classic from the 1960s, just about. The acoustic “Happy or Sad” follows it with aplomb, with Mohan pondering her mental status. “Rebel” adds the next stage of heartbreak: black humor. “Saturn,” which ends the album, charts her transit forward in a melodic manner.
In short, Time is a Walnut is a seed that sprouts into something sturdy, strong and tuneful. It reminds me somewhat of Throwing Muses, Belly and, as I mentioned above, Liz Phair, though the younger among us might cite Chastity Belt, Mitski, and Sharon Van Etten instead. Most of all, however, what we hear is Mohan’s aching heart as it slowly repairs itself.
The Old Grey Cat 