Covey - Sam Jam/Crooked Spine
In a double release which blends real with surreal, Covey shines an offbeat light on regrets, fantasies and relationships, setting the stage for his upcoming character-driven album Class of Cardinal Sin.
‘Sam Jam’ is the story of singer Tom Freeman’s love for his sister - and will leave some fans baying for the blood of a complete stranger.
The track is something of a trojan horse, lulling listeners into an acoustic reverie, before what first appears an affectionate brotherly love letter becomes a vow of make-believe vendetta.
The juxtaposition is almost darkly comic, with Freeman decrying “fuck that guy I hope he’s dead” as drums and guitars swell triumphantly at the song’s crescendo - but there is a strangely sweet sincerity in the singer’s bloodlust daydream.
‘Sam Jam’ is a telling of a bizarre real-life incident that befell Freeman’s 14-year-old sister, and the accompanying video sees Covey relive a version the scenario with the gleeful wrath of a vigilante, though this time he controls the assault’s outcome in a variety of gruesome attacks on the perpetrator.
Covey initially built a fan-base on TikTok, and an introductory video released by Freeman on the platform establishes the details of the story (though in the music video the victim is a seal-headed character called “Sammy Jammy”) and encourages listeners to join him in chanting the song’s vengeful chorus.
He began to use the platform as a promotional tool during last year’s various lockdowns and introduced a growing fan-base to a number of recurring surreal figurine characters, which will also play a part in upcoming album ‘Class of Cardinal Sin’.
Covey is again the supportive (if slightly unhinged) brother in ‘Crooked Spine’, which sees the artist turn again to his sister as a muse, and continue the saga of “strong spined Sammy J.”
A medical condition is an unlikely subject for a folk-punk song, but Covey’s poetic description of scoliosis feels empowering rather than clinical - “you have spinal reinforcement, so you get out there and show them what that means”.
Freeman’s lyrics are refreshingly direct and at times confessional, with the British-born artist acknowledging that he too has been a source of pain in his sister’s turbulent past.
There is a familiar acoustic strum forming the backbone of the track, on top of which marching drums, layered vocal harmonies and subtle synths create a texture which waxes and wanes. In the song's final third, Covey delivers an intimate, stripped back acoustic verse, before a mellow guitar solo provides a final flourish.
The two tracks share a similarly gentle pace, though ‘Crooked Spine’ runs about 2 minutes longer, and both continue the throughline of romanticising macabre subjects, which underpins much of his work.
From what we’ve heard so far from this third album, Covey seems more confident and self-actualised in his persona, with vocals that are more impassioned and raw than on previous releases and ambition displayed in spades with his use of inventive characters and world-building to tell real stories.
Words: Joe Buncle