Category: Folk (Page 20 of 23)

Great Big Sea: Fortune’s Favour

Newfoundland’s finest return for their 10th album, this time with producer Hawksley Workman in tow, and though nothing on Fortune’s Favour is unexpected – the band long ago got its act down to a science, if not an art – none of it disappoints, either. Since making its American “breakthrough” in the mid-to-late ‘90s, Great Big Sea has occasionally seemed unsure of which direction to follow – some sets found them tilting a little too heavily toward the pop end of the spectrum at the expense of the trad-folk elements of their sound that make them so unique – but as their U.S. sales have dwindled over the last five or six years, their focus has improved, and this album is as sure-footed as anything they’ve released since Turn. It does present a somewhat mellower picture of the band than some longtime fans may be comfortable with, but that’s appropriate; Great Big Sea’s music has always played on the tension between love of home and love of the road, and if their songs get sweeter and softer with age, it’s probably only par for the course. The album is bookended with a pair of killer cuts (“Love Me Tonight,” “Straight to Hell”), and manages to get through 14 tracks without ever really sagging in between. A no-frills DVD of studio footage is thrown in as a value-added bonus, but unless your idea of fun is watching the band fart around between takes, there’s no reason to buy this other than the music – and thankfully, it’s more than strong enough to stand on its own. (Great Big Sea 2008)

Great Big Sea MySpace page

Two Cow Garage: Speaking in Cursive

It was arrogant to think from the start / You were the only backyard Dylan / With a folksinger’s heart” sings Two Cow Garage’s Micah Schnabel in “Folksinger’s Heart.” And while even an aged Bob Dylan has more vocal heft than Schnabel, who consistently sports a rasp that sounds like he’s been yelling at the top of his lungs for hours on end, he and his Columbus, Ohio-based band do tend to write some compelling songs. The bare-bones heartland rock that marks the bulk of Speaking in Cursive, the band’s fourth album, even veers towards E Street Band territory via crashing guitar chords and Andy Schell’s tinkling keyboards on “Glass City,” one of bassist Shane Sweeney’s several turns at the lead vocal slot. Sweeney’s vocals are at their best during the quieter moments of “The Heart and the Crown,” where he again echoes Springsteen, this time in his folksy acoustic guise. This kind of vocal restraint is in short supply, but Speaking in Cursive is saved by brilliant contemplative moments like the disillusioned “Not Your Friends” and the vivid character sketch “Sadie Mae.” (Suburban Home 2008)

Two Cow Garage MySpace page

Sandra McCracken: Red Balloon

Derek Webb’s better half has raised her Q factor considerably this year, first with the dazzling Ampersand EP with husband Webb and now Red Balloon, her sixth solo album. Split into two sides – literally, the album contains two CDs, each housing five songs – the album features the kind of wistful acoustic pop that Sheryl Crow might make after listening to a bunch of Sarah McLachlan records, though Crow hasn’t written a song as catchy as “Lock and Key” or “On the Outside” in years. Sometimes the album gets a tad too maudlin, as on “Saturn’s Fields,” but there is no denying that McCracken is a gifted singer and songwriter in an age where anyone with a guitar and a notebook filled with Dear John letters fancies him or herself a gifted songwriter. That she’s not playing these songs on a larger stage is borderline criminal. (Sandra McCracken Music)

Sandra McCracken MySpace page

Sixpence None the Richer: The Dawn of Grace

When Sixpence None the Richer’s breakup proved temporary in 2004, it seemed only natural that a holiday album would provide the inevitable impetus to bring them back together. Though the band has been back together for at least a year, The Dawn of Grace is confirmation of the band’s spiritual solidarity, a religious thread that’s been woven into their music since the beginning. Singer Leigh Nash is still the group’s most identifying element, her waif-like vocals imbuing the sweetness in their sound and an angelic presence that’s an apt ingredient when it comes to heralding in the holidays. Here the band sample from both the spiritual and the secular, mixing in the obvious (“Silent Night,” yet another read of Joni Mitchell’s “The River,” now a seasonal standard) with a few pop pieces that tie into the holiday joy (the tropically sway of “Christmas Island,” a gentle and caressing “Christmas for Two”) and pull it all off with equal aplomb. The group’s willowy sound doesn’t infuse any deeper meaning that isn’t gleaned already from the inclusion of the more reverent selections, but as a pleasant aside, The Dawn of Grace is a lovely, if low-cast, bit of seasonal solace. (La Face)

Sixpence None The Richer website page

Thea Gilmore: Liejacker

You would think that the final word in terms of singer/songwriter types was uttered in the ‘60s and ‘70s, given that that’s the era that birthed such visionaries like Bob Dylan, Joni Mitchell, James Taylor, Jackson Browne and their like-minded brethren. Then along comes an artist like Thea Gilmore, who proves herself more than able to reach that bar. In the past ten years or so, she’s notched up repeated successes on her ascent to the upper ranks of contemporary British singer/songwriters, and if Liejacker doesn’t quite rank as the absolute masterpiece of, say, Blue or Blood on the Tracks , it does impress with its array of alluring, caressing melodies and enough hooks to fill a fashion warehouse. Most artists would be content to be able to write songs that would make Gilmore’s “good” stack – and there are plenty of those here – but few could match such instantly indelible offerings as “Come Up With Me” or “Rosie,” two of the more infectious efforts this album has to offer. The former boasts the kind a catchy chorus that will likely never to wear thin even after repeated listens, while the latter comes across as a gentle ramble, its folk-like caress reaffirming Gilmore’s natural penchant for merging music and meditation. Gilmore’s got the goods, and with Liejacker she ups her ante considerably. (Rykodisc)

Thea Gilmore MySpace page

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