Written by Natalie Silva

Like rifling through an old shoebox full of photos, Sluice’s third album, Companion, listens like a stroll through dusted-off stories from the past. Capturing everything – from the most mundane moments of life to its peak insanity, Justin Morris packs the good, the bad, and the ugly into one pretty, 45-minute-long package.  

Kicking off the record with single “Beadie,” Morris takes characters McNulty and Beadie of The Wire, and Sarah and Joe Pera of Joe Pera Talks With You, and turns them into characters in his own life. To those not chronically online, these references may go unnoticed; nevertheless, introducing these companions, admittedly fictional, brings Sluice’s album title to life in a matter of minutes. Mixing the on-screen dynamic duos with references to (presumably) real childhood memories, “Beadie” is an anthem for healthy parasocial relationships and the art of growing up. 

One thing Companion does best is use the hell out of figurative language: from personifications to metaphors and analogies to allegories, you just can’t overlook Justin Morris’ genius way with words. In songs like “Ratchet Strap” it seems fairly obvious; the song isn’t really about a car, right? And then there are songs like “Overhead,” where, sandwiched in an ode to man’s best friend, lies a somewhat graphic depiction of human culture and its animalistic tendencies. “Like the dog sprinting after a deer/Ripping his old legs out his hips/That’d be the way I’d wanna go I say/Dad nods, he says him too.” With the glorification of this feeling, of always wanting or needing to be one step ahead, comes the abrupt realization that this modern standard isn’t necessarily “right.” “And I think about being very wrong/About needing to be the animal chasing/When you can be the sleeping dog.” 

What better place to apply this message than to the two nine-minute-long songs on Companion? Though you can fit a story into three or four minutes, sometimes giving it a little more time to allow for slow progressions to hum melodically in your ears is even better. Companion proves this wonderfully. “Gator,” track number four, is full of harmonies floating above raw and honest vocals that feel very much like “New Leicester”-era Sluice. It’s full of nods to home and friendship and the difference between dying to live and living to die. Here, you could see the “companion” as any one of the many named or unnamed living beings that Sluice sings of. Whether a family member or an alligator, the companion is not seen as bigger or smaller, but rather another cog in the machine. In contrast, “Unknowing,” as the title suggests, is about a singular “companion” that may or may not exist. Here, the companion is bigger than any other, and the song follows a long stream of consciousness about believing in a higher power. The song is not meant to present the listener with a question or an answer, but more so to create a moment for Morris to reflect on his own beliefs and decision to put trust in a companion he can never truly know. 

These days it often feels hard to categorize music into a genre, but Companion makes it easy. In this album, which seems almost like a collection of fables, Sluice has mastered the art of folk and the beauty of the lore it can create. With wildcards like “WTF” and classic jaunty tunes like “Zillow,” every indie music lover will find a song – and indeed a companion – in Companion. 

Every Wednesday, the ugly hug shares a playlist personally curated by an artist/band that we have been enjoying. This week we have a collection of songs put together by Justin Morris of the North Carolina-based project Sluice.

About the playlist, Justin shared;

“Here’s a compilation of songs that feel relevant to the writing and recording of our LP ‘Companion’ – Things played in the Fust van, the massive monitors at Betty’s studio, or my little kitchen stereo.”

Listen to their playlist here!

You can listen to Companion, released via Mtn Laurel Recording Co. out now. You can also snag a copy on vinyl and CD.