Our latest Short Cuts, a monthly feature where AUK casts a brief eye and ear on several albums we’ve received recently, which just didn’t make the cut for a full review. Like most major music websites, we can’t mention every album or EP we get sent, but we reckon the picks below deserve a nod. Click on the links to hear a song.
Being a fan of americana means that in any given month, there is never a shortage of new music to discover. To make things easier, we present the following notable releases featuring both new and familiar artists. Give them a listen, who knows, they just might become your next favourite artist. We begin with engaging, London-based trio The Long Version and their debut, Late Bloomer, an album that jangles in all the best ways. Comprised of singer/bassist Tricia Davies Nearn, guitarist/singer Jon Heal and drummer David Krupski, the band delivers a wonderful set of folk-rock confections sprinkled with a dose of country twang. Produced by the venerable Peter Bruntnell, the band happily wear their influences on their sleeves, and the music sits nicely in the middle ground between chiming folk rock and classic country, with a dash of vintage 1970’s singer-songwriter gold dust for good measure. Nonetheless, the music they produce remains uniquely theirs, sounding like nobody but themselves. Lyrically, the songs deal mostly with themes of lost, and sometimes pending, love from the discerning perspective of, as the band notes, “those who’ve been around the block a time or two and have the tales to prove it”. Fortunately, there are no parental advisory warnings regarding mature themes, just a fun-sounding record brimming with some brightly melodic songs. From the opening notes of the intensely catchy single, Call Me Baby, it quickly becomes apparent that they are a band musically in sync with one another as the song unfolds over three and a half minutes of sun-drenched americana bliss. Singer Davies Nearn possesses a remarkably pure voice that exudes an effortless warmth throughout the record. Ice Queen veers slightly into rockabilly territory and features a wonderfully expressive guitar solo, while the mid-tempo Short Time Young coasts along on a willowy melody underpinned by some bright, chiming guitars and swirling organ. Elsewhere, guitarist Heal takes lead vocals on a couple of numbers, including the energetic Tall Stories, riding on a frenetic skiffle beat and highlighting the band’s ability to deliver crisp, catchy tunes adorned with some sweet-sounding vocals and sturdy playing. Overall, a feeling of cheerfulness permeates the songs that could only come from a place of contentment. Long story short, prepare to be impressed with this classic-sounding record of original delights.
Next up comes the talented A Different Thread with their latest release, Over Again, a charming collection of exquisite songwriting and rootsy musicianship. The transatlantic duo consisting of Alicia Best and Robert Jackson wrote all eleven songs comprising the album, share lead vocals and harmonies, and assume a wide variety of instruments as well. The result is a strong and consistent set of songs that showcases their folk, country and blues influences. Featuring mainly acoustic-based instrumentation with uncluttered arrangements, their original songs tackle contemporary themes but are solidly rooted in americana traditions. Opening the album is the uplifting title track, Over Again, with its instantly appealing melody and call to break old habits and start anew. It’s a wonderful start to the record and effectively lays the framework for what follows: insightful lyrics basking in sturdy melodies, and sweet vocals that blend and rise together naturally. The moving The Prophet takes on a slightly darker mood with lyrics dealing with current issues around “religious performance, unchecked power, and environmental destruction“, set to a countryish melody featuring some stately, bittersweet violin by Best. In addition to the core instrumentation, most songs on the album feature contains small nuances, such as the inclusion of flute, dobro, grand piano, and, in the case of the sad, but ultimately hopeful, Columbine, some absolutely gorgeous violin and cello that quietly elevate the song to a work of beauty. A thoroughly enjoyable album that deserves some serious attention.
The latest collaborative album from JP Soars and Anne Harris is the ambitious Gypsy Blue Revue, nine songs showcasing a multitude of styles and covering a wide swath of americana influences in their arrangements. The common thread to all the songs is Soars’ highly inventive and melodic guitar playing, in addition to the many other stringed instruments he employs, anchored by some meticulous leads from acclaimed violinist Harris. Recorded live in the studio, the playing is loose, but focused, and always adventurous. The sultry blues of opener Jessie Mae gets straight to the point and sets its hooks in immediately, both literally and figuratively, with a mesmerising riff and arrangement, relentless in its execution. Soars’ soulful vocals add an appealing, bluesy edge to the song, detailing a real-life encounter with Hill Country blues legend Jessie Mae Hemphill. The riff-driven instrumental Go With The Flow features some extremely dexterous playing by Soars that, at times, appears headed into surf-rock territory, guided by propelling drums and topped with an outstanding violin solo by Harris. The pair highlight their acoustic side on the gorgeous traditional-sounding May Mountain Waltz and the countrified cadence and dusty storytelling of Old Silver Bridge. Nothing, however, can prepare the listener for the album’s final track, Cigar Box Jam, an eighteen-minute tour de force that flips the album on its head. Played on a custom-built, two-string cigar box guitar, the track opens with some ominous-sounding chords before taking off into the stratosphere with a no-holds-barred full band workout that incorporates everything from the blues to the Beatles, with some Caribbean grooves thrown in for good measure. The guitar and violin interplay is outstanding, and it’s a credit to the musicians involved that their playing and arrangements keep things fresh and moving. A captivating release that never loses momentum and is well worth checking out.
New Hampshire-based Goldtooth release the rollicking Hurt Feelings, eleven slices of high-octane, guitar-driven alt-country. It’s a raucous affair, frenzied in its pace, but full of countryish harmonies and tuneful in its delivery. The slyly titled opener Riffer Madness blasts out of the gate at full throttle with crunchy, driving guitars, shaking the dust off the speakers in the process. It’s loose and energetic, teeming with wildly melodic riffing and a relentless pace, a perfect introduction to the album and, consequently, the band. The album flows effortlessly from song to song, never straying too far from the template presented on the opener: melodic, short and straight to the point. The acoustic Rodeo presents another side to the band, and they can slow things down and convincingly handle sweet, harmony-laden ballads as well. On the other end of the spectrum, tracks like Goldrush show off their amped-up country-punk tendencies without losing sight of their tunefulness. All in all, it’s spirited, slightly ragged and an extremely fun listen.
From Edmonton, Canada, comes St. Arnaud with their self-titled third album of indie-style folk/pop. Stylistically, the album is rooted in the smooth stylings favoured by 1970s-era singer-songwriters such as Paul Simon, with influences ranging from indie folk, country, jazz, and easy listening. The full band format supports this aesthetic by incorporating horns, electric piano and electric guitar throughout. The vibe is invitingly easygoing, and there’s an earnestness that radiates from these songs, with lyrics that swing from quirky to unabashedly sentimental. The opening number Your House glides on a funky groove with lead vocalist Ian St. Arnaud’s charismatic voice leading the way. The brightly melodic songs are overflowing with clever insights; sometimes poignant, often witty. ‘Talking away the days / Days become your life / Boredom like a thousand cuts from an old bread knife’. The humorous Midwestern Superstardom muses on the challenges of life on the road as a working band, set to a relaxed, countryish beat graced with some sweet pedal steel. Stranger Collection is a lovely acoustic ballad replete with some tender sentiments, where St. Arnaud’s personality is able to cut through the arrangement, revealing a sensitive singer-songwriter. At times, the album feels a little too polished, perhaps sailing dangerously close to yacht rock territory, but the quality of the songs and playing help keep the record anchored.
MOTH, the latest project from UK singer-guitarist Pete Shaw, offers their debut album Thirty-Four Hundred, a collection of songs rooted in the folk and blues tradition and presented in a predominantly acoustic format. The band also features Janet Tomlinson on fiddle and vocals, and Jason Thompson on percussion and vocals. The title track, Thirty-Four Hundred, introduces the album in fine fashion; a gently flowing story song, aided by some devastatingly mournful violin. Indeed, the songs benefit from Tomlinson’s violin, and her playing provides a lovely counterpoint to Shaw’s sharp storytelling, as evidenced on Conversing With The Moon (Janet’s Mix). Interestingly, it’s one of three arrangements of the song that include a solo version, a full-band version, and a guitar/violin version. The uptempo folk-rocker, Take My Chances With The Devil, takes on a prog-folk feel, with shades of psychedelia, somewhat reminiscent of Dave Cousins and the Strawbs. While this may be an example of a song that is not hard to imagine as a fully formed folk-rock piece, by taking the songs down to their bare essentials, the essence of the songs comes through and may even sound all the better for it. Flush with warm, enchanting songs performed with considerable acoustic elegance, it’s a delight from beginning to end.
William John Titus Bishop’s Four in the Morning – A Tribute To Leonard Cohen sees him covering a selection of the iconic artist’s compositions, but in a completely original and idiosyncratic approach. It’s a sombre affair, even by Cohen’s own standards, that requires some patience on the part of the listener to get through. Leading things off is Winter Lady, a reserved number where the listener may feel they have stumbled upon a low-key rehearsal. Over Bishop’s hushed vocals, an acoustic guitar, drum machine pattern, and swirling carnival-like sounds compete with each other to dizzying effect. It’s both jarring and intriguing at once. The following track, Hey That’s No Way To Say Goodbye continues in a similar vein, with the vocals buried deep in the lo-fi mix, forcing the listener to really lean in and focus on what’s being presented. These are undoubtedly unique takes on songs that most people are familiar with from the original recordings or the many covers, but Bishop’s fragile and vulnerable vocals are particularly well-suited to the chosen selections. Dance Me To The End Of Love is probably the closest-sounding version to the original, but even so, Bishop playfully takes some liberties with the phrasing and delivery to ultimately put his own stamp on it. It’s a strikingly bold venture with a lingering mood of introspection. Unconventional in its approach, it may not be for everyone, but there are rewards to be had; it just may require some patience and attentiveness to get there.
Texan Hank Alrich, a veteran of the Austin roots scene, delivers his latest album, Broken River, where his storytelling skills come to the fore. Over twelve country-folk songs, with occasional jazz and blues inflections, Alrich’s slightly grizzled, world-weary voice delivers his sage-like meditations and carefully curated observations of American life with a hard-earned maturity and perspective. The slow groove of the modern-day parable, Don’t You Listen To That Man is a highlight, along with the folky I Hate To See That Morning Sun Go Down. Alrich’s lyrical acuity is on full display on the shuffling blues of Denial River Blues, where he demonstrates his talent for a clever turn of phrase: “All this fancy living can fade in a flash / You’ll be down on your knees tryin’ to drink that cash“. A lyrical honesty in the form of biting social commentary on climate change is also evident on the ominous Locomotive Wind, where the intensity of the music matches the directness of the words when he sings: “Give up your lowdown ways, do it now / Just beat those warheads right back into plows”. Throughout, Alrich is ably supported by a core of seasoned veterans, including Glenn Fukunaga on bass, Andrew Hardin on guitar and Red Young on keyboards, whose playing adds a beautiful quality to the songs. An inspiring album, it’s not overly fancy, but it bristles with rustic charm and homespun wisdom and will most definitely reward your attention.
And finally, hailing from Colorado, singer-songwriter Ryan Dart offers up If Love Don’t Break You, an accomplished collection of fourteen original tunes, sung and performed in the tradition of Townes Van Zandt and Bob Dylan. Full of unadorned honesty and perceptive lyrics about the human condition, the songs are ably supported by some stout country-folk melodies delivered with Dart’s slightly gruff, gentle vocals. The musicianship is spare but full-sounding, providing only what is absolutely necessary on each track. The midtempo Dirt Road Woman is an early highlight, with a sound filled out by some mandolins, fiddle, and pedal steel and a soulful delivery. The engaging ballad, Wild Sea, plays on his folkier inclinations and is a softly flowing acoustic number, plaintively sung over fingerstyle guitar and flourishes of singular violin. Say What You Mean is a quieter, reflective number performed earnestly and coloured by some tasty steel guitar flourishes. The aptly titled closer, This is How it Ends, is a bittersweet lament, performed solo on acoustic guitar, that can proudly sit alongside the best songs of some of his contemporaries. “So, I’m signing off tonight with a hole in my heart / Maybe this old world will have one less scar/ This is how it ends“. An understated yet assured set of contemporary americana, full of gentle musings on love, loss, and all the messiness in between.
