SOUNDTRACK: THE LAST BISON-“Switzerland” (2011).
The Last Bison is a band based out of Virginia. They seemed to ride the wave of aggressive folk rock that came out with Mumford and the Lumineers. They described their sound as “mountain-top chamber music” as they added classical elements (strings mostly) to their alt-folk.
This was the the first song I’d heard by them and I found it really compelling.
The song opens with a quiet melody played on an acoustic guitar or mandolin. It feels pastoral and I loved that the melody was accented with a percussive banjo or guitar strum.
The vocals are high and rustic with nice harmonies. After the introduction, a quick acoustic guitar propels the verse (in which singer Ben Hardesty sings high enough to be almost out of his range).
About half way through, tehs ong shifts gears to a minor chord and the heavy strings come in–deep cello and a soaring violin solo. The song slows down to gentle strums and vocals as he sings the chorus once more before everything builds up one more time.
In 2018, The Last Bison released a new album with a new lineup and a reinvented sound with more keyboards and percussion.
[READ: October 20, 2020] “Switzerland”
The narrator’s family moved to Switzerland when she was 13. Her father was a doctor who wanted to specialize in trauma and Switzerland had the best hospital for trauma study (which was ironic given that Switzerland “is neutral, alpine, orderly”). She was too young to live on campus, so she resided with her English tutor, a Mrs Elderfield.
Two other girls, both eighteen, were also staying there. The girls were Marie who came from Bangkok via Boston and Saroya who came from Tehran via Paris. The older girls laughed at her naivete but they were always kind to her.
Marie and Saroya were sent to Switzerland because of their troubled past–sex, stimulants, and a refusal to comply. Their parents hoped the school would “finish” them, but the schools knew they were finished already.
Marie radiated trouble and her father had strict rules about her behavior in the house. Soraya on the other hand didn’t seem as overtly troublesome. She was small with a bob and had an alluring air. But Soraya was full of stories of the men she’d been with and on Sunday afternoons she likes to share the stories.
The most recent man was a banker, twice as old as she was. She saw him in the restaurant and when her uncle with whom she was dining left for the restroom, the man walked past and dropped in front of her a five hundred franc note with his room number written on it. The man told her that he always booked a room in this hotel because it overlooked the lake with its powerful fountain. The gushing fountain aroused him.
They girls laughed about the man, but every time he came into town he would call the house pretending to be her uncle and they would go to the hotel together. She had been seeing two other men, but the banker told her to be exclusive to him (even though he was married).
After the Christmas break, when Soraya returned from Paris, she was very different, quiet and withdrawn. She spent a lot of time on the phone.
Marie and the narrator spent a lot more time together.
Then in the spring, when Soraya seemed happy again, the narrator noticed a bruise on her neck.
A few weeks later Soraya did not return home one night. The police were called. Her father was called. Marie and the narrator were questioned endlessly. They told about the banker and the hotel. But there a no trace of either of them. [She’s not dead, but no other spoilers].
At the end of the story, which is many years later, the narrator says she has a daughter who doesn’t hunch or hide behind headphones. The girl stands erect and still, with a proudness that refuses to grow small. The narrator is afraid for her but nervous as well. The narrator did not name her Saroya, but the girl certainly reminds her of her old roommate.
Leave a Reply