Fire on Fire is, as their name suggests, a duality wrapped in a singularity, a paradox that somehow bears ramshackle cohesion through its own contradictions. It’s the sound of the American soil: gritty, coarse, uncouth, and consummately impolite. It’s as if the band members were raised by wolves amidst the oak pillars of Maine, admiring the villagers’ harvest dance from afar but never truly understanding their steps. This is folk music made by folks who never claimed to live amongst the people. The compositions, however, are expertly played – guitars, banjos, bass fiddles, panpipes, hand percussion, ouds, shakers, dobros, and accordions are stitched together with such derelict joy that you can’t help the urge to howl too.