Warmer Milks started as Mikey Turner (Michael, as of late) playing a short set of acoustic tunes at the home of fellow Lexingtonian Trevor Tremaine (Hair Police, Eyes and Arms of Smoke). What began as a rather humble solo endeavor has become much more, with Turner and a revolving cast of compatriots having gained some serious momentum, most notably with Penetration Initials, released on cassette by Mountain in 2006, and Radish on Light, a cd/lp put forth by Troubleman later that year. Since these releases helped put the band on the map, other issuances have followed, including Let Your Friends In, on Release the Bats, and any number of limited run cassettes and cdrs. Come 2008, Turner has cleaned up his act just a bit, and on Soft Walks, the Milks eschew much of the damaged improv vibes that were a large part of their past, with Turner concentrating on his songsmanship first, with any real tomfoolery largely kept to the music's borders. Soft Walks finds Turner at what might be his most straightforward, though it's certainly not a smooth, overly polished document, with plenty of the Milks' scruffy spirit imbuing even the most conventional of song forms.
Soft Walks doesn't move in a hurry; the songs drift by with a languid drawl, moving in straight lines, but not without a good bit of rambling along the way. The band loosen the nuts and bolts of their rootsy rock to create a ramshackle approximation of a good ole sound. A warm rusticism spans the disc, from the beauty of Turner's slow burn balladry to the group-sing choruses that might sound cheesy if they weren't so damn endearing. One of three untitled instrumental tracks is one of the album's rare ventures into the abyss of abstraction, though it is decidedly in the minority here, an out-of-place departure that serves as an interruption of the disc's momentum more than anything else. The hazy cacophony that interrupts "The Truth" and the kraut-ish beat that pulls it back into line aren't exactly in harmony with the rest of Soft Walks, either, but the shift seems more organic, a natural, if unexpected appendage of the track's plodding first movement. Tracks like "Wild Spring" are the album's highlights, however: Turner's songwriting here is best experienced unfettered, and while the world-weary tone of the disc's darkest passages isn't without effect, it's the bright and rollicking moments, uptempo and optimistic, that are Soft Walks' most satisfying.
It's not likely that Turner will keep this up for long, and Warmer Milks will likely be knee deep in some manner of wrecked backwoods improv, but this batch of Milks is one to check out, before the ever nomadic aesthetic of the band is on the move again.
