RIYL: Susan Tedischi, Lucinda Williams, Sheryl Crow,
On her second album, Broken Promise Land, Anne McCue delivers a tightly produced group of songs that is well paced and refreshing. For the record, she’s backed by a rhythm section that consists of Ken Coomer (Uncle Tupleo, Wilco) on drums and Bones Hillman (Midnight Oil) on bass. Together, this trio creates a hard rocking sound that also pulls from the blues, country, and folk. It’s music that McCue calls “cosmic biker music.” On each track, the singer sings with a cool, lovely voice that draws you in. But it’s her killer guitar playing that keeps you coming back for more and her ability to write a catchy song that makes Broken Promise Land so memorable.
Bad ass songs like “Don’t Go to Texas,” “Rock ‘n Roll Outlaw,” and the title track show that McCue is staking her claim in the new blues movement that has made the White Stripes and the Black Keys popular. Elsewhere, on “Motorcycle Dream,” and “God’s Home Number,” a noirish, spooky number that reminds me of late night drives through the city, McCue uses crafty wordplay and a cool, slinky voice to lure you in until she unleashes a killer guitar solo. Each track on Broken Promise Land flows naturally into the next, making this a complete listening experience and not just another album where you’re looking for the next hit single.
It’s easy to understand why McCue has gained fans in the likes of Nancy Wilson of Heart and Americana queen Lucinda Williams. McCue attacks her guitar on each song with a bevy of blues and classic rock that recalls some of the legends of the ’70s, including Wilson, while her songwriting and singing voice have an urgency and a haunted nature that recall the kind of passionate southern tales Williams has recorded during her storied career. There is a comfortableness about this music that makes it kind of timeless; no matter how many times you hear it, you never get sick of it. It’s the type of music that can form the soundtrack to peoples’ lives. Broken Promise Land is a great listen and you’ll find yourself coming back to it again and again after your initial time through it. (Flying Machine Records 2010)
To call 100 Miles from Memphis Sheryl Crow’s “soul” album would be a little misleading. It isn’t like the songwriter/songstress/Grammy favorite hasn’t always had something of a soulful streak running through her music. This latest effort just emphasizes that streak more explicitly than any of her previous albums. More importantly, it catches Crow (most of the time) in a playful, lighthearted mood. It’s a sharp turn from the heavy-handedness that’s made much of her last couple of albums a bit of a challenge to listen to, and it results in her best album in at least a decade.
