Dana Falconberry

Falconberry's songs are gentle, almost invariably delicate, sometimes mysterious and frequently feather-light. But her music's sweet, intricate softness never stands in for strength. Watch her and five bandmates perform three songs from her recent album Leelanau. - NPR

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Among the isolated folks in the rural parts of northern Michigan, there's a pet name for the fanny-pack wearing vacationers who visit during warm months to relish the water and woods: "fudgies" – so named for the tourist-trap fudge shops they support. Dana Falconberry's second full-length and fourth release overall, Leelanau ruminates on the Michigan native's summers spent exploring the state's northern lower peninsula. That imagery – Petoskey stones, birch bark, red foxes, inland lakes, and maple leaves – sets the scene of my own family's backyard nearby. It's with such personal provenance, then, that I proclaim Falconberry a fudgie. Orchestral in execution and folk in instrumentation, pop cuteness defines Leelanau, but it's not simply Falconberry's virginal voice staking that effect. Her phrasing and rise-and-fall-melodic tendencies recall a windup music box or, when joining backup singers to ape a toy piano on "Crooked River," a tonal hiccup. Her vocal experimentation nestles in campfire classical arrangements and plucked strings, dramatic rests, vibrating flourishes, brilliant countermelodies, and practical whistling accompaniment – all sounds as pastoral as wind through the trees. Through personal journals and scenic descriptions, Falconberry eventually confesses, "I was a quivering maple leaf, about to drop" in "Lake Charlevoix." Relating the Ojibwe legend of Sleeping Bear Dunes on another song, Falconberry commiserates with a mother bear waiting forever for her drowned cubs to come ashore. A day at the beach, "Petoskey Stone" confronts nature's built-in awe, while the guilt-ridden "Muskegon" expresses a sorrow that gives Leelanau emotional depth. Naturally the album plays out especially provocatively to me because Dana Falconberry lyricizes my rarely spotlighted native environment, but it'll interest you too, since she could be describing Spicewood, Texas, or Lake Havasu, Ariz., or Fairbanks, Alaska, because she's really singing about escapism and gaining understanding of life through nature. She's singing about growing up. - Kevin Curtin - Austin Chronicle

"Charlevoix," "Tahquemenon," "Muskegon," "Leelanau." The song titles of orchestral pop songstress Dana Falconberry’s forthcoming record, Leelanau, are as exquisite and unpronounceable as the music itself. For her new record, Falconberry not only expanded her sonic palette to include a six-piece orchestra; she made illustrations for her bandmates to study while they recorded their instrumentals. Though Falconberry’s home state of Michigan leaves a Great Lake-sized footprint all over Leelanau, her uniquely pitched voice and evocative string arrangements seem to draw on influences across the map, from Joanna Newsom to Sufjan Stevens (there are only so many Michigans to sing about). Stream Leelanau in full below before its October 9 release date via Antennae Farm Records. - Harley Brown - Spin.com

My favorite new artist seems to change week to week, or sometimes even day to day. It turns out there's a lot of great music being made. But for now, my new favorite is Dana Falconberry. She's been putting out records for a few years, but only popped up on my radar this week. She's got a fantastic new record coming out soon called Leelanau, which includes this meticulously crafted little gem, "Crooked River."

Falconberry's songs on Leelanau are like magical but strange little fairy tales. They shimmer and creep. Listening to them is like the musical equivalent of bounding through a poppy field, with fluttering little butterflies dancing in the air. But Falconberry isn't overly precious. There's mystery lurking in the shadows.

For "Crooked River," Falconberry says she was inspired by a sewer-creek in the back of an apartment building where she once lived. "I used to walk out there a lot and watch the water move. It always found its way through any obstacle, and that was inspiring to me. At the time, I was going through some rough stuff related to my career, and so I wrote 'Crooked River' as a sort of self-help song to get me through it. I wanted to emulate the different ways that water can sound, too; bubbly and quick, and also smooth and lazy. My good friend Christopher Cox arranged the strings for the song and really helped to bring that concept to life."

Leelanau is out Oct. 9 on Antenna Farm Records. You can hear more from the record on this week's All Songs Considered. - Robin Hilton - NPR All Songs Considered