Son Volt – Electro Melodier
Transmit Sound – 30 July 2021
With their last release, ‘Union’ in 2019, Son Volt looked like a band that had settled into a satisfying new, folk-inspired groove. Whilst still very much a vehicle for the song writing of Jay Farrar, it was audible how the development of a tight-knit band of musicians was cementing this unit in a way unlike before. Two years and one worldwide pandemic later, and that process is still going from strength to strength. Key band members remain in the fold, most critically the multi-instrumentalist Mark Spencer (credits include piano, organ, acoustic slide, lap steel and backing vocals) and the solid backbone provided by Mark Patterson’s drums and percussion remain as well. Thanks to this stability, as well as undoubtedly the maturity evident in Farrar’s writing, this third act in the third decade of the Son Volt band is emerging as the most musically satisfying and consistently attention-grabbing era.
The Son Volt of two years past had arrived at a protest folk junction, so it is not unreasonable, given the front and centre political history unfolding daily in the US, to expect this latest release to continue in that vein. Well, Farrar has never willingly followed the path most invitingly walked, so with typical perversity, he has spoken ahead of this album of his desire to avoid the topical content. “I wanted to concentrate on the melodies that got me into music in the first place. I wanted politics to take a back seat this time, but it always seems to find a way back in there”.
It says a lot about the times we are living through that, even when a writer as eloquent as Jay is intending to focus his work on more personal and universal concerns, the unsettling events in the Trump world, the terrifying impacts of climate change and the tensions arising from racial ignorance and a killer virus closing down the cultural landscape are just too overwhelming to ignore. As he sings in ‘The Globe’, “people climbing skyward stairs, deciders of their fate, you can see it everywhere, change is in the air”. Despite the lyrics here sounding at times crushed by the sheer range and scope of global change and unrest, this song has easily the most uplifting sound on the whole record. The heavily strummed power chords are saturated with oozy organ. The overall effect is that of a bystander cheering on the instigators of positive change that will surely emerge from all this.
Farrar goes even more direct on his fears for the planet on ‘Livin’ In The USA’, a song that, whilst being explicit in its anger, is also hoping for a little human empathy and compassion to emerge from the rubble. “Share a little truth with your neighbour down the block, we’ve all got fossil fuel lungs while we run out the clock”. This one is propelled by insistent acoustic strumming, perhaps the most textbook folk protest template utilised on this collection, and it works. As the drums and electric guitar enter the mix, the song reveals something of an earworm centrepiece where again the clouds break, and hope arrives.
Let me be clear, the original intention stated by Farrar does have a place on this record too. In fact, when sentiments like gratitude, as expressed on the jaded ‘Lucky Ones’, and love for his wife shine some light through the debris, the result is some startlingly beautiful relief to the overall sonic portrait painted within ‘Electro Melodier’. The latter is especially true on ‘Diamonds And Cigarettes’; it’s a tune heard as a single release ahead of the album. It is particularly special thanks to a guest vocal by the wonderful country singer Laura Cantrell. She is very much a diamond in the country mine, with a number of essential albums to her name. Things have gone a little quiet with Cantrell recently, but internet digging shows her still very much involved in music-making and DJing. This is a welcome re-appearance; there are so many talents out there that we music lovers must pro-actively ensure are not forgotten or washed away by the covid flood.
From the off, this is a record that is brimming with an artistic assuredness. ‘Reverie’ crashes in with a juicy electric / acoustic guitar punch worthy of the Drive-By Truckers as the lyrics implore us to “raise the bar a little higher” and seem to anticipate / hope for the end of the Trump years. “We won’t know where we stand until December”. The way the lead guitars launch the most tuneful of licks, both at the end of this song and then at regular intervals throughout the album, tastefully lend an anthemic element to proceedings. It also shows that Jay Farrar’s motivation to rekindle the sounds of his musical youth remained intact even as the political and topical concerns seeped in.
In the end, this collection of songs stands out as being especially potent and refreshing. Even when Son Volt sound beaten and depressed on ‘War On Misery’, singing “I’ve been thinking that it’s time to declare”, you end the song feeling like you’ve bathed in the most rural of bluesy lakes and emerged fully recharged for the fight ahead. It seems the combination of a vibrant collective of melodically and dynamically expressive musicians and unavoidable, unexpected song inspiration prompted by world events has resulted in an album that needed to be made for artistic reasons, rather than the desire to make a new album. As can be heard when listening to ‘Electro Melodier’, a collection of songs that demanded to be written will always make for a more intense and rewarding experience. There is nothing on here that sounds forced or insincere; this latest Son Volt release is must-hear Americana for 2021.
Electro Melodier is out on 30 July 2021.
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