Like the album’s artwork, Joshua James’ The Sun Is Always Brighter is composed of beautifully muted colors – from “The New Love Song” clear on down to “Commodore,” each track floats along on a quietly melancholy cloud, strung up with plaintively plucked acoustic guitars, tasteful pianos, and – courtesy of ace utility infielder Phil Parlapiano – the occasional organ, accordion, and mandolin. At the forefront is James’ high, husky voice, a deceptively fragile instrument that recalls nothing so much as Ray LaMontagne without the constant threat of suicide. Brighter offers 11 slow pitches down the middle of the plate for fans of hushed backwoods soul with a slight dash of rock – think of the more bucolic moments on early Van Morrison albums like Moondance, and you’re on the right track. Of course, Joshua James isn’t the songwriter Morrison is – hell, he might not even be the songwriter Ray LaMontagne is – but that doesn’t keep Brighter from being a wonderfully easy listen. You may be hard-pressed to remember most of these tracks after they’re done – and if you pay enough attention to the lyrics, you might worry for James’ long-term well-being – but while the record is on, you’ll wish you had a mint julep, a back porch, and a nice breeze blowing through the birches. (Intelligent Noise/Northplatte 2008)
