New contributor Livvy Hooper brings a great review of the newest from Ray LaMontagne.
When I realised I had missed the release of a new Ray LaMontagne album, my anger was palpable. “Curses!” I yelled to the ether, “my LaMontagne sense has failed me!” Alas, the familiar tingling that usually comes with the imminent release of the New Hampshire creaker’s latest instalment, had registered barely a flicker. Still, better late than never, so I dug in with fervour.
His 2010 release of God Willin’ & The Creek Don’t Rise (his first release in collaboration with a band, The Pariah Dogs) stumped his label execs but went on to be nominated for two Grammy’s, and win one for Best Contemporary Folk Album, and if God Willin’… was a departure from the beardy sounds of Trouble (2004), Till The Sun Turns Black (2006), and Gossip in the Grain (2008), then the shy folk-singer’s Supernova carves a whole new route in the American’s oeuvre.
Produced by Dan Auerbach of Black Keys’ fame, Supernova takes the insular melancholy of LaMontagne’s previous offerings and injects them with a psychedelic-pop haze that breezes through the album like the raspy tones from the man’s very throat. Building on the demos that LaMontagne had written after a year off from extensive touring of God Willin’…,Auerbach was first contacted as “an engineer reference”, but soon came onboard as the producer after conversations and initial work in Auerbach’s studio. In a rare interview with Billboard, LaMontagne says that he and Auerbach had wanted to work together for a while, and were happy to “make some time to experiment.”
And what an experiment it turned out to be. Wrapped up in dreamy, woozy folk-rock “post-flower-power wistfulness”,Supernova’s 10 tracks take us through pastoral American landscapes and whimsical city wonderings with soulful, cozy vibes, crunchy guitars and glassy sky-gazing.
At the top of the album, ‘Lavender’ kick starts the neo-psychedelia with spacious guitars that trip in after the brassy intro, and ‘She’s The One’ marries his trademark twanging acoustics with a funkier bass grooves and trembling guitars, building to a damned catchy chorus. Hand-clapping ‘Pick Up A Gun’ intro gives way to something more akin to everything we’re used to from Ray, yet with an even mistier overtone from Auerbach. The twinkling of ‘Ojai’s piano evokes that flower-power haze, and the seventies echo bounces right across the steely strings, luscious vocals and shuffling snares, putting a heavy dose of summer right into your ears. Final track ‘Drive-in Movies’ is the real money-shot on Supernova, full of smokey nostalgia and pop-culture time travel with his “I wanna be Brando in The Wild Ones”. It lulls you into a world of smoke-filled cars under twinkling skies and lusty, booze-filled adolescents, all “hangin’ around, jus’ waiting for shit to go down” that doesn’t feel too far away from our own.
It’s an album that can only be viewed in contrast to his previous records, but the bold and enterprising change hasn’t been welcomed by all. Some fans have lamented this newly upbeat sound as trying to “reinvent bubble-gum music”, and over atPaste, Hilary Saunders reckoned on the experimentation in sonic landscapes meaning the “emotional connection forged through clear playing and exposed lyricism” is likely to be lost. But I’m not sure she’s right; yes it’s different, a “chameleonic” evolution even, but you can still hear those strings and Ray’s rasp is still as emotive as ever.
More pop-folk than anything he’s given us before, Supernova marks an experimental push forwards into new territory for LaMontagne, and while it might take a couple of listens for existing fans to get their heads around, it’s well worth it. It’s an album that oozes summer-time sensations, all laid-back whiskey swigging under rural skies sewn together with cascading melodies and vocals that are equal parts grain and velvet, that can’t not get you in the mood for the sunshine.
Sure, it’s a change and sure, Auerbach’s presence is pretty clear, but it’s an album full of surprises and blissful psychedelia-pop that arguably makes Ray more accessible to the so-called ‘mainstream’. On a new ‘sonic terrain’, Supernova is a swooning summery soundtrack that dances in yer lug’oles like the dust in the sunshine. Stick it in your speakers, and grab a cold one.
Find more goodness from Livvy at: thesegoodghosts.tumblr.com
Ray LaMontagne’s Supernova is available to stream on Spotify, and to purchase on iTunes.
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