There’s a certain cyclical nature to the poignancy of folk in popular culture. Turned to most in times of turmoil, folk music is perhaps the most durable music genre as a medium for both protest and comfort. Particularly provocative is folk’s inherent warmth, with full-bodied string instruments and vocals, in direct conflict with scathing lyrical takedowns and history lessons put to music.
River Glen’s newest album fits squarely in this duality, arriving when needed most — a safety blanket to wrap around its listener, a thrown molotov cocktail engulfed in flames and vitriol.
Aptly named Poignant Folk-Pop, the 10-track album touches on a full spectrum of upheaval, from overarching critiques of capitalism and war, to focused case studies of Africville, a historic community of Black Nova Scotians, and the government’s eviction and destruction of its people. River Glen seems keenly aware of how history repeats itself. The cycles are never broken and the lessons never learned.
Despite the heaviness of his lyrical topics, Dubuque-born frontman River Brietbach seems to know the secret recipe for injecting levity without losing the point. There’s perfectly pitched playfulness here that often oozes sarcasm and spits out reality checks. The line “hate me like I’m dating your mom” in “Most Dads,” a diatribe against the machine and taunting of the world’s systems, is darkly funny. The track is all about landing those punchlines, satisfyingly layered with venomous backing whispers — a momentous musical roast of the world.
But none needle the skin quite like “Some People,” with its brutal lyrical progression. Beginning with an endearing earnestness about people who can’t hold babies well or don’t eat their vegetables, the song spirals and lands on exasperated dejectedness: “People can’t see most people on this planet, they are not human, not really.”
Brietbach takes the listener to a church of political and social thought, elevated by the warmth of a musical patchwork of local Iowa charmers. All the folk, rock and jazz heavyweights of Iowa are accounted for, from the wailing pipes of Abbie Sawyer and Dave Helmer’s raw guitar playing, to the standout horn flourishes of Dan DiMonte and Cory Eichman’s breathtaking clarinet playing, gorgeously layered over the field recording of a loon’s call (also playfully credited on the album) on the meditative track “Cabin Thoughts.”
Poignant Folk-Pop’s instrumentation, harmonies and vocal sensibilities feel comfortingly ’90s, with a sound that fuses the likes of Midwest darlings the Jayhawks with the biting vocal rhythms of early DIY folk, spearheaded by Ani DiFranco and Suzanne Vega. Nowhere is this clearer and more welcome than track standout “Mug/Rug.” A series of metaphors that are visceral in imagery and vocal flow, it’s a love letter to past simplicities and life’s small details. Its lyrics are exemplary of the album itself — “A burning, beating heart,” “that coffee when you rise,” and most importantly, “That place that you keep looking… that bent page in your book.”
As the world becomes increasingly and violently uncertain, River Glen creates something to return to for both comfort and anger, providing explanation when spoken words fall short.
This article was originally published in Little Village’s September 2025 issue.
