Max García Conover

In Storming the Gates of Paradise, Rebecca Solnit writes of the fine line between wanting to get lost and wanting to go home. She suggests writing itself is a labyrinth, ‘in which the lines we draw between things become tangled, become a network of connections to get lost in’; getting lost becomes the quest itself, the necessary process by which we find things, whether at the centre or otherwise. In the labyrinth we trail our ‘desire to go home’, ‘a desire to be whole, to know where you are, to be the point of intersection of all the lines drawn through the stars’. I wonder if we might think of music in a similar way: something to get lost in, tangled in melodic constellations, and by way of our wandering find ourselves home, wherever we might call ‘that centre called love’.

There are ways of intensifying our sense of the labyrinth. What if we wrote songs in just one week, what if we found ourselves out in dry wind, among dry leaves, kept solely by the company of dogs and horses? What if the labyrinth became a farm, let down its walls in favour of grassy plains, dust and sun-swaying trees? So goes the Among Horses project, setup and run by Barcelona’s San Canciones records. If we think of writing as labour, here the labour is literal: bound up in the running of a farm, living off the land, learning to create with someone new.

In the project’s third iteration, the label have selected two Portlandians for the challenge: Haley Heynderickx (Oregon) and Max García Conover (Maine). Fresh from the release of her acclaimed 2018 album, We Need to Start a Garden, Heynderickx has already earned her credentials as a poet of all beautiful and unnoticed things, little insects and fissures of identity. Conover, whose third album Motorhome was released last year by Son Canciones, is a one-man band or bard of the road, stringing prolific lyrics and trailing miles behind him. On their joint EP, Among Horses III, the two singer-songwriters have made something plaintive, raw and warming. The feeling of adapting to a landscape, living slow, losing something of your heart to the journey.

This is an EP of connection and disconnection, intimacy and estrangement. Driving through darkness, mending a broken love with the searing wind; singing of your mother, a sense of self torn between two worlds, striving to be whole. Reflecting on what we leave behind. Like previous Among Horses EPs (featuring Withered Hand and A Singer of Songs, Zoe Boekbinder and Dustin Hamman), this record is a wistful slice of elsewhere, a place of enchantment and transience. As Heynderickx sings, ‘Don’t you wanna fly with the highland birds?’ we’re swept up over those Spanish vistas; we feel something of the heat, the wind, the exchange of stories. The EP closes on ‘Crow Song’, with the chorus sung by Heynderickx and Conover together, ‘I’ll be home where I go / I’ll be home wherever I go’.

What does it mean to be wherever home, home wherever? To choose a way of life the way the crow flies, shunning the set, familiar ways? Listening to Among Horses III, I get to share a little of that wanderlust, maudlin for summer and a misplaced want, following the musing stream of a thought. ‘How nice to see a pattern broken’, Heynderickx sings in ‘The Park’; a place where life grows, where we begin as seeds. Images wash over me and sweep the labyrinth clear of debris, so I can see the shimmering centre. Maybe in a voice you can find a home. - GoldFlakePaint

It might seem like a "song of the week" would be a quick, dashed-off affair. Maine singer/songwriter Max Garcia Conover disproves that notion with "Streetlights," a gorgeous slice of folkish Indie Pop. "Streetlights" was written over the span of several months, just getting off of a fall tour.

This commitment to quality speaks to the care Conover puts into his music. The "song of the week" series is also a testament to Conover's work ethic. "Streetlights" is the 67th installment in his "song of the week" series. It's even more impressive, considering Max Garcia Conover's been trickling out these gorgeous indie gems on his SoundCloud. He's clearly recording and releasing music for the sheer bloody love of it. His songs are confessional, intimate, and personal.

That alone is not enough to qualify someone as one of We Are: The Guard's Best New Artists. There's skads of bedroom pop/lo-fi indie folk musicians out there. While we have a deep love and appreciation for many of these auteurs, it doesn't qualify them as breakout artists. Truly great Pop Music (and let's face it, much of today's indie music has a Pop quotient, even if only due to the sheer amount of music out there) needs to at least touch on current tastes and trends. Musicianship, emotionality, subtext, and nuance can get lost when there's too much noise along with the signal.

Max Garcia Conover's intimate, confessional songwriting is augmented with glistening synths and glittering guitar lines. Musically, it could come from the Miami Vice soundtrack or an especially emotional b-side from The Police. Conover's vocals could've come straight from the Dust Bowl. The Maine singer/songwriter employs a talking blues style that is as much Woody Guthrie as Chance The Rapper. "Streetlights" sounds timeless and utterly current, all at the same moment. - We Are The Guard

Max is incredibly prolific: recently, he released his 29th song this year. I first heard “Eddie’s Wine” at Club Passim last fall and it set the tone for a fantastic set featuring Max’s intricate, precise finger-picking. - Red Line Roots

It’s tough to win people over when you’re just working with your voice and a guitar. Singer/songwriters are a dime a dozen — you can hardly swing a dead cat in this town without hitting one. So for Conover to rise above the scrum and find an audience in such quick fashion is testament to doing something right. He has a warm, unique voice, and his lyrics tell stories in literary ways that make people care. Plus, he’s a fine fingerstyle guitarist who can definitely walk and chew gum at the same time. Add all that to a near-constant output — two EPs in the last year and a steady stream of intimate live takes of interesting covers as part of his Sunday Sessions, which is nearly 20 songs deep of free material — and you can see why he’s gathered fans in a short amount of time. - Portland Phoenix Music Awards

Northeast Regional Finalist - Max Garcia Conover - NewSong Contest

Max Garcia Conover with Sammie Francis
Friday, February 10, 2012

Mayo Street Arts, Portland, Maine

Max is a dear friend of mine. A mutual friend who teaches where Max was doing his student teaching introduced us last winter. He’s been part of the gang ever since. I can’t separate my feelings about how great Max is as a person from how great his music is. Last summer, Max, Sophie, Chris, Brady, and I hiked Mt. Katahdin. Brady had done the whole AT and was no stranger to the mountain. For the rest of us, it was our first trip up. Brady had just had wrist surgery, so only went as far as the beginning of the Hunt Spur with us (at least that’s what we’re telling his mother). The rest of us continued on to the top and made it there quite late in the day. My refrain of the day was, “this is NO JOKE!” Mt. Katahdin is a serious climb. The way up was okay, but on the way down, my feet were D-O-N-E. Everyone else was okay, but I was not. I seriously meant it when I told them to leave me and I’d make it down eventually. I was a wreck. Chris made me give him my pack to carry, Sophie gave encouragement, and Max led the way—patiently, calmly winding us down the mountain. All told, I think it was a 15-hour ordeal. I bought my hiking buddies lunch at Big G’s in Winslow the next day to say thanks. We’ll got to Baxter State Park again this summer to camp, but I will not be hiking that mountain again under any circumstances.

Max is one of the kindest, most thoughtful guys you’ll meet. He has a poet’s heart. He is calm and quiet and unassuming. When it somehow came up that he played music, I had no idea that he would be so amazing. Max is humble, and I frankly don’t think he understands how talented he is. He sent us an email last fall with a link to listen to his first EP online (conveniently titled EP#1). I listened for about thirty seconds with my mouth gaping open. I had NO IDEA that our friend Max would sound this polished or that his songwriting would be so layered and interesting. I was floored. I had to really push Max to play for us the next time we gathered and a guitar was present. He is quite shy about his talent. I had only heard Max play those few songs live before I saw him at his EP#1 release show with David Berkeley at One Longfellow Square last October. I went to the green room to chat with him before the show and reminded him that he needed to remind people to buy his EP. It’s the sort of thing he’d leave out. My friends and I took up the first few rows; his family and friends had traveled from near and far, and there was a lot of love in that room. And Max blew us away. I was so proud. Excited for his talented, touched by his songs, and just glad to call him friend. When David Berkeley and I chatted at the end of the evening, he told me that Max plays circles around him on the guitar and that he’d love to come back and do it again every year. Let’s hope so.

Max was featured a few times in the local press in the weeks leading up to his Birches Lo release show at Mayo Street Arts. Sam Pfeifle from The Phoenix wrote a great review of Max’s second EP, Birches Lo. Pfeifle wrote, “the list of local guys with guitars who can grab your attention without any other window-dressing is a pretty short one. Max Garcia Conover is making a strong pitch for joining that select group.” About his songwriting, Pfeifle said, “these aren’t rambling folk crooners, but songs that ripple with energy and earnestness. They’re poetic and portrait-like, with lots of words that twist about . . .” and “he’s more likely to address trees and structures and landscapes than unrequited lovers.” I wholeheartedly agree with Pfeifle’s assessment.

Annie Seikonia reviewed Max’s EP #1 in the January-March 2012 edition of The Baysider. She hit the mark when she wrote that it’s a “warm, homespun project that gives you the feeling of meeting a new friend whom you’ve known forever.” She also said Max’s “compelling narrative lyrics are delivered in a voice rich as wild honey.” I especially loved hearing that, because Max has said many times that he only really learned to play guitar about six years ago (which I doubt you’ll believe when you hear his insane finger-picking), and that he has always struggled with learning how to sing. In an interview with USM’s Free Press, Max said, “I was really tremendously bad at singing for a good chunk of my life.” I can assure you he’s finally found his voice.

Aimsel Ponti interviewed Max in the Portland Press Herald about his life and the inspiration for Birches Lo. It was no surprise to me when Max replied that “most of the songs are at least partially about the desire to and importance of connecting to the natural world.” I think the most fitting place to hear Max’s music to fully appreciate it would be outside with him playing live around a campfire in the woods. If that’s not possible, I’d suggest downloading his music and taking it along on a hike in the woods on your iPod. It’ll do. I think M - What Bree Sees

Max Garcia Conover with Sammie Francis
Friday, February 10, 2012

Mayo Street Arts, Portland, Maine

Max is a dear friend of mine. A mutual friend who teaches where Max was doing his student teaching introduced us last winter. He’s been part of the gang ever since. I can’t separate my feelings about how great Max is as a person from how great his music is. Last summer, Max, Sophie, Chris, Brady, and I hiked Mt. Katahdin. Brady had done the whole AT and was no stranger to the mountain. For the rest of us, it was our first trip up. Brady had just had wrist surgery, so only went as far as the beginning of the Hunt Spur with us (at least that’s what we’re telling his mother). The rest of us continued on to the top and made it there quite late in the day. My refrain of the day was, “this is NO JOKE!” Mt. Katahdin is a serious climb. The way up was okay, but on the way down, my feet were D-O-N-E. Everyone else was okay, but I was not. I seriously meant it when I told them to leave me and I’d make it down eventually. I was a wreck. Chris made me give him my pack to carry, Sophie gave encouragement, and Max led the way—patiently, calmly winding us down the mountain. All told, I think it was a 15-hour ordeal. I bought my hiking buddies lunch at Big G’s in Winslow the next day to say thanks. We’ll got to Baxter State Park again this summer to camp, but I will not be hiking that mountain again under any circumstances.

Max is one of the kindest, most thoughtful guys you’ll meet. He has a poet’s heart. He is calm and quiet and unassuming. When it somehow came up that he played music, I had no idea that he would be so amazing. Max is humble, and I frankly don’t think he understands how talented he is. He sent us an email last fall with a link to listen to his first EP online (conveniently titled EP#1). I listened for about thirty seconds with my mouth gaping open. I had NO IDEA that our friend Max would sound this polished or that his songwriting would be so layered and interesting. I was floored. I had to really push Max to play for us the next time we gathered and a guitar was present. He is quite shy about his talent. I had only heard Max play those few songs live before I saw him at his EP#1 release show with David Berkeley at One Longfellow Square last October. I went to the green room to chat with him before the show and reminded him that he needed to remind people to buy his EP. It’s the sort of thing he’d leave out. My friends and I took up the first few rows; his family and friends had traveled from near and far, and there was a lot of love in that room. And Max blew us away. I was so proud. Excited for his talented, touched by his songs, and just glad to call him friend. When David Berkeley and I chatted at the end of the evening, he told me that Max plays circles around him on the guitar and that he’d love to come back and do it again every year. Let’s hope so.

Max was featured a few times in the local press in the weeks leading up to his Birches Lo release show at Mayo Street Arts. Sam Pfeifle from The Phoenix wrote a great review of Max’s second EP, Birches Lo. Pfeifle wrote, “the list of local guys with guitars who can grab your attention without any other window-dressing is a pretty short one. Max Garcia Conover is making a strong pitch for joining that select group.” About his songwriting, Pfeifle said, “these aren’t rambling folk crooners, but songs that ripple with energy and earnestness. They’re poetic and portrait-like, with lots of words that twist about . . .” and “he’s more likely to address trees and structures and landscapes than unrequited lovers.” I wholeheartedly agree with Pfeifle’s assessment.

Annie Seikonia reviewed Max’s EP #1 in the January-March 2012 edition of The Baysider. She hit the mark when she wrote that it’s a “warm, homespun project that gives you the feeling of meeting a new friend whom you’ve known forever.” She also said Max’s “compelling narrative lyrics are delivered in a voice rich as wild honey.” I especially loved hearing that, because Max has said many times that he only really learned to play guitar about six years ago (which I doubt you’ll believe when you hear his insane finger-picking), and that he has always struggled with learning how to sing. In an interview with USM’s Free Press, Max said, “I was really tremendously bad at singing for a good chunk of my life.” I can assure you he’s finally found his voice.

Aimsel Ponti interviewed Max in the Portland Press Herald about his life and the inspiration for Birches Lo. It was no surprise to me when Max replied that “most of the songs are at least partially about the desire to and importance of connecting to the natural world.” I think the most fitting place to hear Max’s music to fully appreciate it would be outside with him playing live around a campfire in the woods. If that’s not possible, I’d suggest downloading his music and taking it along on a hike in the woods on your iPod. It’ll do. I think M - What Bree Sees

Birches Lo (maxgarciaconover.bandcamp.com, $6 CD; $5 MP3) is a new live album and the second EP overall from Portland-based guitarist Max García Conover. The sound is raw, stripped bare of any computer or studio magic. It’s jarring at first, but the organic sound of one man and his masterful guitar playing makes the songs all the more powerful. Conover’s last EP was named one of the year’s best by the Portland Phoenix, thanks to his powerful vocals and an interesting playing style that distinguishes him from more traditional acoustic acts. The new album is heavily influenced by Conover’s love for nature. He will donate all the profits made from Birches Lo to Chewonki — a Wiscasset-based non-profit dedicated to fostering a stronger connection between students and the natural surroundings of Maine. Buy the album at the iTunes store or at maxgarciaconover.bandcamp.com - Down East Magazine

Birches Lo (maxgarciaconover.bandcamp.com, $6 CD; $5 MP3) is a new live album and the second EP overall from Portland-based guitarist Max García Conover. The sound is raw, stripped bare of any computer or studio magic. It’s jarring at first, but the organic sound of one man and his masterful guitar playing makes the songs all the more powerful. Conover’s last EP was named one of the year’s best by the Portland Phoenix, thanks to his powerful vocals and an interesting playing style that distinguishes him from more traditional acoustic acts. The new album is heavily influenced by Conover’s love for nature. He will donate all the profits made from Birches Lo to Chewonki — a Wiscasset-based non-profit dedicated to fostering a stronger connection between students and the natural surroundings of Maine. Buy the album at the iTunes store or at maxgarciaconover.bandcamp.com - Down East Magazine

This is the first year reviewing local music made me feel truly panicked. Like there was no possible way I could get to hearing everything that was being released. The amount of local albums and EPs released this year exploded (I published reviews of 70 releases, in total), buoyed in large part by digital-only releases on Bandcamp and the continuing cult of the EP, which has seen bands release less music more frequently.

A conservative assessment puts the total number of "local" releases — those by bands who call the greater Portland area home base — at 125. Sure, that's only about 2.5 a week, but that's just enough to make you feel like there's another one you're missing out on.

The quality kept up with the quantity, too. For instance, I think Grand Hotel's In Color is better, actually, than their self-titled debut, which I had ranked at number three last year, but the competition is better. I'm a Spouse sycophant, but I couldn't find a way to get frontman Jose Ayerve's A Severe Joy into the top 10. Spencer Albee's Space Vs. Speed album? Despite that Saiyid rap that I still listen to at least once a week, it fell just short. Jacob Augustine's three-album output was impressive, but no single release ultimately made my list. Both Metal Feathers and Huak deserve attention, and commendation, for strong releases that challenged me as a listener. Same with Hi Tiger and Good Kids Sprouting Horns.

No single song, actually, struck me more emotionally than Hi Tiger's "Nukes," which just about broke my heart.

Eric Bettencourt, Pinsky, Sparks the Rescue, Tree by Leaf (RIP), the McCarthys, Putnam Smith, This Way, Worried Well, Sidecar Radio — shit, even Doctor Astronaut — released strong pieces of work. It's my practice to rank every single album I reviewed, and I can honestly say that I still regularly dial up full-length-album #33 for a listen. I know I commit the sin of loving too much, but these are all records that deserve your ears.

But this ain't Lake Wobegon and not every album can be above average, and not every album can be in the top 10 best albums of the year (plus the five best EPs). So I made my picks. I hope you've listened to enough local music to be able to argue with me.

Criteria? Same as always: Albums are ranked by originality, musicianship, how long something from the disc lasts in my head, the number of plays they got on the iPod, whether they contain a truly outstanding song, and some consideration for production value and the quality of the listening experience. Here we go:

EPs

1) Foam Castles, Come Over to My House

2) Mai, Mai, Mai, Mai

3) Vanityites, Once Again to Lillith

4) Arms Against a Sea, III

5) Max Garcia Conover, EP #1 - The Portland Phoenix

This is the first year reviewing local music made me feel truly panicked. Like there was no possible way I could get to hearing everything that was being released. The amount of local albums and EPs released this year exploded (I published reviews of 70 releases, in total), buoyed in large part by digital-only releases on Bandcamp and the continuing cult of the EP, which has seen bands release less music more frequently.

A conservative assessment puts the total number of "local" releases — those by bands who call the greater Portland area home base — at 125. Sure, that's only about 2.5 a week, but that's just enough to make you feel like there's another one you're missing out on.

The quality kept up with the quantity, too. For instance, I think Grand Hotel's In Color is better, actually, than their self-titled debut, which I had ranked at number three last year, but the competition is better. I'm a Spouse sycophant, but I couldn't find a way to get frontman Jose Ayerve's A Severe Joy into the top 10. Spencer Albee's Space Vs. Speed album? Despite that Saiyid rap that I still listen to at least once a week, it fell just short. Jacob Augustine's three-album output was impressive, but no single release ultimately made my list. Both Metal Feathers and Huak deserve attention, and commendation, for strong releases that challenged me as a listener. Same with Hi Tiger and Good Kids Sprouting Horns.

No single song, actually, struck me more emotionally than Hi Tiger's "Nukes," which just about broke my heart.

Eric Bettencourt, Pinsky, Sparks the Rescue, Tree by Leaf (RIP), the McCarthys, Putnam Smith, This Way, Worried Well, Sidecar Radio — shit, even Doctor Astronaut — released strong pieces of work. It's my practice to rank every single album I reviewed, and I can honestly say that I still regularly dial up full-length-album #33 for a listen. I know I commit the sin of loving too much, but these are all records that deserve your ears.

But this ain't Lake Wobegon and not every album can be above average, and not every album can be in the top 10 best albums of the year (plus the five best EPs). So I made my picks. I hope you've listened to enough local music to be able to argue with me.

Criteria? Same as always: Albums are ranked by originality, musicianship, how long something from the disc lasts in my head, the number of plays they got on the iPod, whether they contain a truly outstanding song, and some consideration for production value and the quality of the listening experience. Here we go:

EPs

1) Foam Castles, Come Over to My House

2) Mai, Mai, Mai, Mai

3) Vanityites, Once Again to Lillith

4) Arms Against a Sea, III

5) Max Garcia Conover, EP #1 - The Portland Phoenix

Max Garcia Conover, EP #1

Man, this is some gorgeous stuff. Conover is a hell of a fingerstyle guitar player and has an arresting vocal style, with a ton of presence. As a five-song introduction to a new player on the singer-songwriter scene, this is a very nice effort, completely naked and stripped down. Just Conover and his guitar, there's usually enough to hang on to, with interesting lyrics and some stories you want to know a little more about. This is definitely someone to watch and pay attention to.

Released at One Longfellow Square | with David Berkeley | Oct 13 | maxgarciaconover.com - The Portland Phoenix

Max Garcia Conover, EP #1

Man, this is some gorgeous stuff. Conover is a hell of a fingerstyle guitar player and has an arresting vocal style, with a ton of presence. As a five-song introduction to a new player on the singer-songwriter scene, this is a very nice effort, completely naked and stripped down. Just Conover and his guitar, there's usually enough to hang on to, with interesting lyrics and some stories you want to know a little more about. This is definitely someone to watch and pay attention to.

Released at One Longfellow Square | with David Berkeley | Oct 13 | maxgarciaconover.com - The Portland Phoenix

Exploring the countryside with Max García Conover
Take to the trees
By SAM PFEIFLE | February 1, 2012

There are so many guys with guitars nowadays. Though that's probably been true since Bob Dylan popped, it's a lot easier for them now to put out CDs and post videos and promote shows. What separates the guy who takes his slot at the Dogfish open mic to do Neil Young and Grateful Dead covers before playing a middling original from someone to whom you need to pay attention?
Vocals, charisma, a turn of phrase, actual above-average ability on that guitar? Some combination of that, clearly. Sometimes something it's hard to put your finger on. Ray LaMontagne, Micah Blue Smaldone, Jacob Augustine, Moses Atwood, Samuel James, a handful of others — the list of local guys with guitars who can grab your attention without any other window-dressing is a pretty short one.

Max García Conover is making a strong pitch for joining that select group. His debut EP #1 last year was intimate and striking and the follow-up EP, Birches Lo, offers more of the same, though with Jonathan Wyman turning the knobs this time around. These six songs feature vocals even more immediate and arresting, even if it is sometimes like looking at someone's face with a magnifying glass. Flaws are hard to miss.

But with Conover, there are few to distract you. In large part, these aren't rambling folk crooners, but songs that ripple with energy and earnestness. They're poetic and portrait-like, with lots of words that twist about (he's no Sting, that's for sure), but that only sometimes are narrative and don't fall into the common "you and I" love-song structure of so many young songwriters.

He's more likely to address trees and structures and landscapes than unrequited lovers. "Thatch House" has a playful blues construction with finger-picking full of percussive pops on his guitar's harmonics, and is probably the most dramatic of the bunch, with Conover noting "death does weigh heavy on me," moving from growling, back-of-the-throat delivery to playful and whispery. He avoids melodrama with crisp turns of phrase like "I've been building a storm in my gut" (as good a metaphor for nervousness as I've heard lately) and "soak me down, take me in, sweep me up."

Even when the sentiments are familiar, his descriptions of them are often unique. This song and a couple others could be maybe 30 seconds shorter, since the guitar line is so repetitive and causes the song to run together a bit, but you probably only notice that when you've got the headphones on and are listening intently. As background music for a read of the Sunday paper on a cold morning with a coffee, it doesn't get much better.

"Among the White Birches" is an important change-up, though, with bookends of fingerstyle playing surrounding a central portion supported by a straighter strum. Some might find the tree personification a touch new-agey, what with the "feet as firewood" and "my roots could run with rain," but it's very nicely executed and the surprise 30 seconds of picking at the finish is impressively played.

The closing "Spiral Through the Wheat" also features a quick strum, though the live way Conover chose to record this makes Wyman's job a little tricky, as the guitar and vocals have to be rounded off at times to make sure they don't max out the levels when Conover gets excitable. The songwriting's attention to dynamics is part of its appeal (some might find it "precious"), but I think it works better in person in this case.

"The Creek Woman Poet" is the strongest track here, even if the guitar part is the simplest accompaniment. The song is wonderfully compact, talking about the craft of poetry construction with lyrics that manage to escape cliché. "Show me how to hunker down," Conover implores, "show me in my heart there's light among the liars." While he repeats phrases, he rarely utilizes what you'd call a chorus, and here that last phrase serves as the chorus of sorts, closing the song just as it began.

Even as a strong track, though, I can't say it's a playlist kind of song, and that may be where Conover has room to grow. The sound is there, comforting and intriguing and inviting. The lyrics are there, interesting and evocative. The project as a whole is cohesive. But I think there's a spectacular song or three somewhere inside of Conover that he hasn't found yet, a calling card.

I'm looking forward to hearing it.



Sam Pfeifle can be reached at sam_pfeifle@yahoo.com.

BIRCHES LO | Released by Max García Conover | with Sammie Francis | at Mayo Street Arts, in Portland | Feb 10 | maxgarciaconover.com
- The Portland Phoenix

Exploring the countryside with Max García Conover
Take to the trees
By SAM PFEIFLE | February 1, 2012

There are so many guys with guitars nowadays. Though that's probably been true since Bob Dylan popped, it's a lot easier for them now to put out CDs and post videos and promote shows. What separates the guy who takes his slot at the Dogfish open mic to do Neil Young and Grateful Dead covers before playing a middling original from someone to whom you need to pay attention?
Vocals, charisma, a turn of phrase, actual above-average ability on that guitar? Some combination of that, clearly. Sometimes something it's hard to put your finger on. Ray LaMontagne, Micah Blue Smaldone, Jacob Augustine, Moses Atwood, Samuel James, a handful of others — the list of local guys with guitars who can grab your attention without any other window-dressing is a pretty short one.

Max García Conover is making a strong pitch for joining that select group. His debut EP #1 last year was intimate and striking and the follow-up EP, Birches Lo, offers more of the same, though with Jonathan Wyman turning the knobs this time around. These six songs feature vocals even more immediate and arresting, even if it is sometimes like looking at someone's face with a magnifying glass. Flaws are hard to miss.

But with Conover, there are few to distract you. In large part, these aren't rambling folk crooners, but songs that ripple with energy and earnestness. They're poetic and portrait-like, with lots of words that twist about (he's no Sting, that's for sure), but that only sometimes are narrative and don't fall into the common "you and I" love-song structure of so many young songwriters.

He's more likely to address trees and structures and landscapes than unrequited lovers. "Thatch House" has a playful blues construction with finger-picking full of percussive pops on his guitar's harmonics, and is probably the most dramatic of the bunch, with Conover noting "death does weigh heavy on me," moving from growling, back-of-the-throat delivery to playful and whispery. He avoids melodrama with crisp turns of phrase like "I've been building a storm in my gut" (as good a metaphor for nervousness as I've heard lately) and "soak me down, take me in, sweep me up."

Even when the sentiments are familiar, his descriptions of them are often unique. This song and a couple others could be maybe 30 seconds shorter, since the guitar line is so repetitive and causes the song to run together a bit, but you probably only notice that when you've got the headphones on and are listening intently. As background music for a read of the Sunday paper on a cold morning with a coffee, it doesn't get much better.

"Among the White Birches" is an important change-up, though, with bookends of fingerstyle playing surrounding a central portion supported by a straighter strum. Some might find the tree personification a touch new-agey, what with the "feet as firewood" and "my roots could run with rain," but it's very nicely executed and the surprise 30 seconds of picking at the finish is impressively played.

The closing "Spiral Through the Wheat" also features a quick strum, though the live way Conover chose to record this makes Wyman's job a little tricky, as the guitar and vocals have to be rounded off at times to make sure they don't max out the levels when Conover gets excitable. The songwriting's attention to dynamics is part of its appeal (some might find it "precious"), but I think it works better in person in this case.

"The Creek Woman Poet" is the strongest track here, even if the guitar part is the simplest accompaniment. The song is wonderfully compact, talking about the craft of poetry construction with lyrics that manage to escape cliché. "Show me how to hunker down," Conover implores, "show me in my heart there's light among the liars." While he repeats phrases, he rarely utilizes what you'd call a chorus, and here that last phrase serves as the chorus of sorts, closing the song just as it began.

Even as a strong track, though, I can't say it's a playlist kind of song, and that may be where Conover has room to grow. The sound is there, comforting and intriguing and inviting. The lyrics are there, interesting and evocative. The project as a whole is cohesive. But I think there's a spectacular song or three somewhere inside of Conover that he hasn't found yet, a calling card.

I'm looking forward to hearing it.



Sam Pfeifle can be reached at sam_pfeifle@yahoo.com.

BIRCHES LO | Released by Max García Conover | with Sammie Francis | at Mayo Street Arts, in Portland | Feb 10 | maxgarciaconover.com
- The Portland Phoenix

February 2
Making Noise: Out standing in a field, Garcia Conover finds his inspiration
All proceeds from sales of 'Birches Lo' go to Chewonki.
Max Garcia Conover is a Portland-based singer-songwriter with a brand-new EP, "Birches Lo." All proceeds from sales go to Chewonki, a Maine nonprofit that offers programs to foster an appreciation for the natural world and working in community with others. The CD-release show is next week, and GO got the low-down on "Birches Lo" and the musical life of its creator.

You live in Portland, but where are you originally from?

I grew up in a small town on the western tip of New York. Lots of my songs are set in those childhood landscapes. I came up to Maine for college, left for a bit, and came back to Portland a year or so ago. I've been blown away by the community here, music and otherwise, and I'll be staying for a while.

I see you've lived in Puerto Rico, Spain and Taiwan. How did those environments inform you as a musician and as a songwriter?

Place is a major factor in my songwriting, and moving around has helped me realize that and make use of it. Setting the scene is almost always where I find footing lyrically. Besides that, each place has been important in one way or another. I only lived in Puerto Rico for three months, but that's where I started playing music in front of people.

What kind of music did you listen to growing up, and does any of it influence the kind of music you're playing?

Definitely. My dad is an audiophile, and he constantly had good music; Ry Cooder, Paul Simon and James Taylor were prominent playing in our house. As a teenager, I was pretty into hip-hop and rap, and not a fan of my dad's music.

At this point, it's evident that my tastes have changed, but I think there are still remnants of rap music in my songs. There are definitely overlaps between good rap and good folk lyrically, and I think musically as well. Lately, I've realized that that's probably part of the reason I've gravitated more toward finger-picking than strumming.

When did you first pick up a guitar, and how did your style develop into what it is now?

I got my first guitar in high school, but I didn't really figure out how to play it until I was almost done with college. I think a big reason for that is that strumming chords was never interesting to me. The rhythm and variation that come with finger-picking allowed me to start writing songs I wanted to sing.

What was the best part for you of making "Birches Lo," and what does that title mean?

Writing songs is my favorite thing to do, and always the most rewarding part of this whole endeavor. "Lo" is a fantastic word. It means something like "an exclamation used to call attention to something amazing."

The main characters throughout "Birches Lo" are the landscapes. Most of the songs are at least partially about the desire to and importance of connecting to the natural world. For a big chunk of my life, the birches were just there, just pale trees. Then I'm on my way back to the States from living in subtropical Taiwan and I'm on a train through Russia and there was a huge lake lined with stark white birch trees, so "Birches Lo."



Staff Writer Aimsel Ponti can be contacted at 791-6455 or at:

aponti@pressherald.com - The Portland Press Herald

February 2
Making Noise: Out standing in a field, Garcia Conover finds his inspiration
All proceeds from sales of 'Birches Lo' go to Chewonki.
Max Garcia Conover is a Portland-based singer-songwriter with a brand-new EP, "Birches Lo." All proceeds from sales go to Chewonki, a Maine nonprofit that offers programs to foster an appreciation for the natural world and working in community with others. The CD-release show is next week, and GO got the low-down on "Birches Lo" and the musical life of its creator.

You live in Portland, but where are you originally from?

I grew up in a small town on the western tip of New York. Lots of my songs are set in those childhood landscapes. I came up to Maine for college, left for a bit, and came back to Portland a year or so ago. I've been blown away by the community here, music and otherwise, and I'll be staying for a while.

I see you've lived in Puerto Rico, Spain and Taiwan. How did those environments inform you as a musician and as a songwriter?

Place is a major factor in my songwriting, and moving around has helped me realize that and make use of it. Setting the scene is almost always where I find footing lyrically. Besides that, each place has been important in one way or another. I only lived in Puerto Rico for three months, but that's where I started playing music in front of people.

What kind of music did you listen to growing up, and does any of it influence the kind of music you're playing?

Definitely. My dad is an audiophile, and he constantly had good music; Ry Cooder, Paul Simon and James Taylor were prominent playing in our house. As a teenager, I was pretty into hip-hop and rap, and not a fan of my dad's music.

At this point, it's evident that my tastes have changed, but I think there are still remnants of rap music in my songs. There are definitely overlaps between good rap and good folk lyrically, and I think musically as well. Lately, I've realized that that's probably part of the reason I've gravitated more toward finger-picking than strumming.

When did you first pick up a guitar, and how did your style develop into what it is now?

I got my first guitar in high school, but I didn't really figure out how to play it until I was almost done with college. I think a big reason for that is that strumming chords was never interesting to me. The rhythm and variation that come with finger-picking allowed me to start writing songs I wanted to sing.

What was the best part for you of making "Birches Lo," and what does that title mean?

Writing songs is my favorite thing to do, and always the most rewarding part of this whole endeavor. "Lo" is a fantastic word. It means something like "an exclamation used to call attention to something amazing."

The main characters throughout "Birches Lo" are the landscapes. Most of the songs are at least partially about the desire to and importance of connecting to the natural world. For a big chunk of my life, the birches were just there, just pale trees. Then I'm on my way back to the States from living in subtropical Taiwan and I'm on a train through Russia and there was a huge lake lined with stark white birch trees, so "Birches Lo."



Staff Writer Aimsel Ponti can be contacted at 791-6455 or at:

aponti@pressherald.com - The Portland Press Herald

Stirring melodies, lush fingerpicking, a folk artist of stellar abilities. Two years have come and gone since Max Garcia Conover graced Maine's local music scene as 2012's best new act. His new LP Ellery paints a picture in the folk lover's heart like a brilliant blue ocean. Max's vocals are stirring and haunting. His storytelling is dark, moving, breathless and immediate. He is a sheer delight to listen to. You'll hear about silos and summer storms that rock you to sleep. You'll hear verses of persistent winds, dark winters, birds, county fairs, holding hands, dogwoods in bloom, and young lovers. Engaging, breathtaking, each work on this folk masterpiece is chilling. Max Garcia Conover is a composer of great talent; his songs are unmistakably appealing. - Performer Magazine