The Square Life

Boots to the Moon’s themes and concepts are as overarching and far ranging as Joe Castor’s voice. From falsetto charged pleadings such as “I miss you more than you know,” to bowel shaking choruses executed with a frightening level of commitment, Castor allows the listener to confront one’s fears and desires. Trying to keep one’s balance while traversing this complex—often bleak—album, it is difficult to grasp the full scale of the album. And that’s what’s great about it. Great art asks questions, bad art provides answers, and this album leaves one absolutely clutching at straws.
Requisite in a more profound appreciation of this album is a visit to Velour to see Castor perform live. Watch Castor’s mouth, the shapes it forms. Watch his body, writhing in expression. Watch his face, hidden undoubtedly behind a mask (figuratively and literally), different each time—perhaps to hide the vulnerability behind the voice that is quickly becoming a siren call for those looking for something they can’t quite find, be it beauty, acceptance, or understanding. Castor represents a generation of artists who are emerging in Utah County who are seeking refuge from the onslaught of predictability and false expectation.
With Boots to the Moon, Castor has transcended the stereotype of singer/songwriter and entered the realm of performance art, a discipline of art understood by few. He doesn’t care if you get it. He doesn’t care if you hate it. But throughout the entire album, as with his performances, he stays true to his art, and goes to the absolute limit of his ability to deliver it with pure intent.
Paradox and duality dominate this album. Opposing sounds tug at one’s ears, and opposing emotions conflict the listener as sorrow and guilt are mixed with harmony and exuberance. Track 3 is a perfect example: “I found your ghost underneath my seat, it’s still white…I found your ghost underneath my seat, it’s still black.” Even as these lyrics are sung with sweet, harmonious sincerity, a background of distant, dark sounds offer a brutal reminder to the stark reality of everyday life.
The album flirts with popiness but is pulled back each time with well-placed non sequitors and open spaces of near silence, allowing the listener room to breathe and enjoy. As beautiful and tight as Joe Castor’s and Jennifer Guerra’s voices are, the unusual song structure and overall cadence of the album lend themselves more to artistic expression than to toe tapping hits. This avoidance of cliché and predictability make the album that much more enjoyable.
Instead of using melody and harmony as a creative crutch to fall back on, Castor is willing to lay these traditional skills aside in search of a clearer way to communicate, always willing to sacrifice beauty for honesty. As art and music enter a post-historical period, filled with uncertainty and doubt, Joe Castor reminds us why there is still value in seeking to understand and interpret our surroundings, and why it is still worth trying, despite what may seem like bleak surroundings.