Living Underneath is an album that thrives on its flagrant disregard for musical convention. It's probably fair to associate David Running with the "unplugged" movement that restored folk music to a prominent position in the musical landscape of the early '90s, but this 1992 debut follows a path that is markedly different from Running's acoustic guitar-wielding contemporaries. This is clearly an artist with no desire to follow anyone's formula. Bleak and gloomy in tone but vibrant in its instrumentation, Living Underneath blends threadbare acoustic picking patterns with unexpected bursts of trombone, bassoon sax, cello, and flute. Running's vocals are often distinctively tuneless, ranging from haunted murmurs to strident wailing. But they are frequently balanced by incongruently pleasant harmonies. Incongruity is, in fact, an important tool for Running. His music relies on a jarring cohabitation of the beautiful and the grotesque. Frequently a beguiling melodic line will be accompanied by lyrical images of unexpected vulgarity or violence. One example of this phenomenon is found in the album's conclusion, which juxtaposes mellifluous cello chords with a disturbing repetition of the word "rain," sung by Running in an almost bestial moan. The problem with this approach is that the balance between these contrasting elements is difficult to maintain, and on Living Underneath Running sometimes weighs too heavily on the side of the grotesque. His melodies are frequently constricted and repetitive and some tracks are mired in a strangling angst that quickly becomes tiresome. In these instances, Running would do well to acknowledge some of the benefits of established musical conventions. ~ Evan Cater, Rovi

1		Nesting Bird
2		Living Underneath
3		Throwing Pebbles
4		Friends These Days
5		Old Song
6		Goodnight
7		Just to Say It (Incantation)
8		I Won't Be There
9		Dying Soldiers
10		However Clever
11		Twigs and Mud