The ideology of giving someone their flowers revolves around the idea of showing appreciation toward somebody while they are still here with us. On the opener for fine thread – the debut album from Columbu lo-fi rockers long odds – musician Adam Elliott sings, “Half the light/Not the better half/Overexposed.” Later on the track, he laments about fake flowers. Is it cynical to believe that any praise we receive might be fake? In the day and age of celebrity worship and how the death of an icon can bring about a flood of Facebook in memoriams, it’s definitely in the ballpark. There is a struggle within humanity of giving someone their roses while they are present, but when it does occur, is it genuine?

long odds is made up of five Columbus lo-fi legends, some hailing from the storied local groups Times New Viking and Connections (Phil Kim is also on the roster). Elliott played in both of those bands, and while most of the eight tracks won’t necessarily have you calling back to either of those groups, the spirit is certainly there. 

Through eight tracks – some blistering through in just over a minute while others cooking for more than three – we’re given glimmers of hope in an otherwise modern dismal existence. As far as my self-consciousness goes, there has never been a more dim time to be alive. Faith is tanking, and it’s simple to, well, “get strung up on bad things.” The line that most exemplifies this on long thread comes on “both sides now,” when Elliott sings, “If you lay down now, you won’t stand up for days.” Nowadays, it seems easier to just give up and sink into a bed of depression. Presenting yourself in public when you’re sad doesn’t reap many benefits. Ironically, this track has the most upbeat texture to it.

Earworms are aplenty on this record, with lyrics that dig into your brain and brood for some time. “We can weed the weak ones out,” “there’s never enough stars,” and “pockets full of policies” ruminate on the mind like being stuck in a staring contest with a dim-lit dinner. The magic of this album is in the way it ebbs and flows through Elliott’s droned words. When the drums cut out on the title track and the bass blasts back in one-minute-and-forty-seconds into the following track “high tide,” it’s a climax that has the power to evoke tears. The brilliance of this album, however, lies in the underlying message of how love can overcome adversity, even in the dreariest of moments. The droning accordion is the thread between these two songs that conjures up hope.

Rihanna’s seventh studio album ANTI is the record I found myself most juxtaposing fine thread against. While ANTI is a far more bloated record than the debut from long odds, the similarities stem from the aloof hopefulness of what Rihanna and Elliott are saying. While the bad girl’s trust in others and how they never show up for her curated the artist’s loneliness (“Needed Me,” Kiss It Better,” even the Tame Impala cover), the modern desolation of the world has the same energy as long odds’ discovery and deconstruction of isolation (“old tv” and “poison ivy”) and what that means for society moving forward. 

A famous quote (at times falsely attributed to Anne Frank) goes, “Dead people receive more flowers than the living ones because regret is stronger than gratitude.” Which begs the question: Is the reason that we give people their roses when they’re no longer with us one rooted in selfishness? When you give somebody a rose, it’s usually under the pretense of wanting to display your gratitude toward something or someone. And when we do receive our roses, is it an authentic olive branch?

fine thread is the Columbus album that we need in a time when hope is waning. Give the members of long odds their roses, and hope they stick around.