Bishop Briggs "River" Doesn't Run Smooth But Boy How It Sticks In Your Gut

A present sent to us singer-songwriter enthusiasts, Bishop Briggs hails from London but now does her business in Los Angeles. "River" contains octane at a level positive for a young fresh face trying to leave a sizable mark on the scene."River" proves to be quite the deceptive title. The flow airs towards the choppy end of the land mass. Lots of precision army hand clapping. So entirely seductive. As for the lass herself she could clear out attention space in s crowded auditorium of smokers distracted by their digital devices. If foot stomping does rhapsodical things for you then "River" ought to set your excitement meter to eleven. Bishop has a purity about her that's meant to elevate her above a crowded fray of songstresses. D and C chords make "Flow" provocative. After the backing band has dug in its heels and the mood grows increasingly sinister we're treated to higher amounts of shivers in our shoulders. This tune was made for the folks in the crowd for whom sitting on the sidelines observing clouds roll by isn't an option. If clouds did factor into the world of "Flow" consistent dark appears to be the common thread. Not a hurried bone to be had. Purpose yes, but trying to shatter the sound barrier? Not on your life. The alternating currents between guitar shifts and clapping call and response gets your heart nicely stimulated. You're eager to put on khakis and head out to off the enemy, be it hidden or arrogantly overt. "River" zeroes in on how two people manage to enter into the contract of falling in love Love and bullets coexist uneasily in line one. Specifically she muses, "How do we fall in love harder than a bullet could hit ya? How do we fall apart faster than a hair pin trigger?" Feisty words for such delicate subject matter. The chorus has redemption fight written all over it. Consider "Shut your mouth baby stand and deliver. Holy hands oh they make me a sinner. Like a river like a river. Shut your mouth and run me like a river. Choke the love till the veins start to shiver. One last breath till the tears start to wither. Like a river, like a river. Shut your mouth and run me like a river. Bishop performs like she has go for broke flowing deep in her British blood. That chorus burns bright so that wherever you fall on the romance spectrum you appreciate the ignition with which she gets the flames of passion started. Late in the song mud seeps up from the ground. I mean the chords start to blur into a cerebral paste that, if you're in logical mind mode, ought to send you running for the hills. "River" isn't born of any pure water whatsoever. The wounded temptress garb suits Bishop to a tee. She's out for answers, much as we all are, but have to accept vagaries instead. We don't get a set of proclamations led by a woman staring at her navel depressing the snot out of us. Forward march carries the day here and what an infantry mission statement this is to get behind. In closing "River" runs deep, gritty, but without losing the poise related to having a purpose in your message.