Waxahatchee and Brennan Wedl Offer a Subdued Take on Kathleen Edwards

The duo’s cover of “Six O’Clock News” trades alt-country grit for a softer, more intimate kind of melancholy.

Covering a song like Kathleen Edwards’ “Six O’Clock News” requires a careful negotiation of tone. The original, from her 2003 debut Failer, is a masterclass in understated dread, its weary alt-country arrangement framing a narrative of domestic violence and media intrusion with chilling matter-of-factness. In their new rendition, Waxahatchee (Katie Crutchfield) and collaborator Brennan Wedl choose not to replicate the song’s grimace, but to dissolve its edges into a haze of shared, somber reflection.

The track’s power lies in its restraint. Gone is the driving, dusty rhythm section and the sharp punctuation of electric guitar. In its place, a bed of warm, slightly hazy organ and gently picked acoustic guitar establishes a contemplative pace. This production choice fundamentally shifts the emotional center. The tragedy is no longer a public spectacle announced by a “six o’clock news” bulletin, but a private, lingering ache. Crutchfield and Wedl’s voices are the central instrument, blending in a close, almost sibling-like harmony that feels less like a performance and more like a mutual acknowledgment of a painful story.

This approach highlights the songwriting’s enduring strength. Lines like “Johnny’s face is bleeding / In the six o’clock news” land with a quieter, more devastating impact when delivered with this kind of intimate weariness rather than roots-rock confrontation. The duo trusts the lyric to carry its own weight, framing it with a sound that leans into the folk tradition of storytelling as a form of communal solace. It feels less like a reinterpretation and more like an act of preservation, transferring the song’s essence into a different, equally valid emotional register.

As a single, this cover functions as a testament to artistic lineage and the subtle art of reinterpretation. It doesn’t seek to replace or improve upon Edwards’ version, but to sit beside it, offering a different shade of its melancholy. For Waxahatchee, whose recent work has expertly mined the space between country clarity and indie-rock atmosphere, it’s a fitting homage, revealing a deep understanding of how a song’s bones can support new textures and temperatures.

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ROMBO Editorial Staff

ROMBO Editorial Staff

The collective voice behind ROMBO Magazine’s news, reviews, features, and cultural coverage.

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