Christian Rutledge “An Inch Of This New York Mile”

Rutledge’s debut album, described as a love letter to the city and people of New York, is a resounding success.

For some years now, Christian Rutledge has carved out a reputation for being one of New York City’s finest rock drummers, supplying the heavy beat for such hard-riffing outfits as Vagina Panther, Space Merchants and Freaky Wilderness. However, there is clearly a very different side to Rutledge, one steeped in the singer-songwriter/americana traditions, full of spare lyric-driven tunes that compare favourably to many of the genre’s finest exponents. From the early folk protest songs of Woody Guthrie, the astute storytelling of John Prine, and the emotional directness of Jason Isbell, “An Inch Of This New York Mile” doesn’t just draw from the same well, but quite astonishingly for a debut album, draws favourable comparison as well.

Matt Shane (Rosanne Cash, Elvis Costello) has been responsible for production, engineering, and mixing, while musical support includes two more Cash collaborators: drummer Daniel Rieser and vocalist Misty Boyce. Elsewhere, Richard Hammond (Joan Osborne, Joe Jackson) handles bass duties, and Chris Tarrow supplies guitar, mandolin, lap, and pedal steel. The collective experience present here is fundamental to the overall subtle, understated sound of the album, creating the perfect conduit for Rutledge’s deeply humane songs, delivering a dozen vignettes of real life with all its angst and wit, longing, love, and loss, skilfully wrapped in narratives bereft of any hint of sentimentality.

On an album where every song merits its place, particular favourites include ‘Coal Miner Song’, a worker’s solidarity tune told from the point of view of the engineers who keep New York’s subway operating, and boasts some delightful backing vocals from Boyce, while ‘When I Call You Crazy’ sees Rutledge’s vocal delivery draw comparison to Patterson Hood. The inspiration for the album’s title can be found in the song ‘My Bodega’, a profile of a New York shop owner that highlights Rutledge’s craft for creating fully rounded characters within his narratives so that you feel you’ve met them before. ‘Little Family Secret’, which sees some delightful mandolin playing from Tarrow, turns the spotlight on abusive relationships and the blind eyes that look the other way, proving that no subject is off the table, while the sardonic humour of ‘Fundraising Drive’ that draws favourable comparison to Townes Van Zandt or even Tod Snider provides the perfect juxtaposition to the pent-up angst that explodes from ‘A Whisper In The Distance’, as Rutledge vents his frustration at all the madness that currently inhabits this planet, stating, “Am I angry? Yeah, I’m angry, aren’t you?”. It’s a battle cry demanding a response.

Considering this is Rutledge’s first foray at stepping up to the microphone as lead vocalist, his delivery is relaxed and confident, never trying to oversell the content of his poetry but rather trusting the context of his sagacious narratives to seep into the listener’s subconscious. Another excellent example of this is the world-weary beauty of ‘What I’d Been Waiting For’, a redemption song that conjures up comparison to the late great John Prine.

The album closes with two tracks that pull on the heartstrings, initially with ‘Watching You Sleep’, with its stripped-back arrangement of only Hammond’s bass supporting Rutledge’s aching narrative of watching someone you love suffering incurably slowly slip away. It’s very much in the same mould as Isbell’s ‘Elephant’, so beautiful and yet so painful, as he sings, “So I brace myself against a wave of grief, and float back to the chair to watch you sleep, in a room the doctor’s said you’d never leave”, all delivered again without an ounce of self-indulgence. This is followed by the hazy elegy that closes the album ‘Where The Meadow Meets The Mountain’, Tarrow’s delightful pedal underpinning the tension in Rutledge’s poetry as he poignantly sings, “As I let go of your hand will you circle back to find me, and tell me everything you’ve seen where the meadow meets the mountains I will meet you in my dreams”.

On the evidence of this album, one feels Rutledge should swap the skins for strings on a more permanent basis, for rarely has a debut album arrived so perfectly formed with twelve wonderful songs that run the full gamut of everyday life in the city he calls home. It may not yet be summer, but I am confident that, come the end of the year, “An Inch Of This New York Mile” will be considered one of the finest albums of 2025.