Bitter Calm
  • Bitter Calm - Eternity in the Lake of Fire (Pre-Order)
    Bitter Calm - Eternity in the Lake of Fire (Pre-Order)
    Bitter Calm - Eternity in the Lake of Fire (Pre-Order)

    Bitter Calm - Eternity in the Lake of Fire (Pre-Order)

    Regular price $24.99
  • Bitter Calm - Good Grief Vinyl
    Bitter Calm - Good Grief Vinyl
    Bitter Calm - Good Grief Vinyl

    Bitter Calm - Good Grief Vinyl

    Regular price $19.99

Birmingham, AL is the third rainiest city in America, but unlike its counterparts in the Pacific Northwest, the rain in Birmingham is not a gentle mist that rolls in quietly over the mountain; the rain in Birmingham falls with an unrelenting ferocity, like it’s punishing the ground for having ever been dry— and then, as quickly as one would discard an unpleasant thought, it’s gone. 

Bitter Calm is a band from Birmingham, AL. They make music that one would call “sad”, but much like the torrential rains that punctuate their lives, it’s a different kind of sad— less like a breakup at the dinner table and more like a breakup in the atmosphere. Deeply, loudly, profoundly sad. 

That’s not to say their music isn’t enjoyable, because it is. Their performances easily invite the vulnerability they require by virtue of their commitment to something completely sincere. Singer/guitarist Michael Harp grimaces and broods his way through songs that are so evidently beautiful that they could easily mask the more unfortunate emotions beneath. 

With support from violinist Meg Ford, bassist Alex Guin, and percussionist Chayse Porter— all Birmingham heavyweights in their own right— Harp eschews the uncomfortable trauma-dumping of his more whispery peers in favor of something darker, meaner, more “results oriented”. 

In other words, Bitter Calm’s newest record is more about the destination than the journey— the destination being “hell” and the journey being “self-annihilation”. There is no relief to be found in the music itself save for the catharsis of accepting one’s own hopelessness. The relief comes from the fact that the songs were ever written, recorded, and performed in the first place. On the other side of this endless descent, descent, descent... something beautiful happened. Thank G–d it did.

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