“Holy shit!” is my exact thought each and every time I listen to Chris Bathgate’s new album, Salt Year. The sheer musical and lyrical power of this entire album got under my skin and seeped into my veins becoming a part of my human fiber. A life-affirming album that affirms I’m alive and not numbed from the massive amounts of sad sack singer-songwriters I listen to daily; instead, Bathgate incessantly stirs my soul and emotions through his pensive and highly expressive songs.
Salt Year is Bathgate’s fifth album and his best effort to date. Inspired by a dark and tumultuous time in his life, this is a record full of wistful songs about lost love, heartbreak and time’s effect on love. And despite the album’s heavy theme, it never comes off as oppressive or tiresome, but, rather, captivating and loose. Every song is a richly complex and brilliant arrangement with common threads evenly moving the album from beginning to end. Musically, the album is transcendental. But, its Bathgate’s vivid lyrical snapshots combined with his confident yet vulnerable vocals that make Salt Year a masterpiece.
The variety of sounds and styles Bathgate uses in Salt Year‘s forty-two minutes of perfection is completely compelling. Beginning with the opening track “Eliza (Hue),” Bathgate sets the album’s dark tone and dreamy feel while posing some questions that introduce us to the theme of heartbreak: Was it sacred? Did you scream out? Were you silent? Were you singing? What secret did he tell ya? Did you kiss him? Was it light out? Then, transitioning and floating into the assertive layers of jangling guitar, junk percussion, swelling fiddles and mandolin riffs in “No Silver” where we find Bathgate “callow and gone.” In “Poor Eliza” we hear one of the best and most memorable melodies on the album while now taking notice of Bathgate’s bitterness and hurt – “It is what it is what it is.” In “Fur Curled on the Sad Road” the music begins to unravel and open up from the melancholy acoustic to somewhat sad and somewhat hopeful reverberating horns. Bathgate rocks out with a blues guitar on both “In the City” and “Time” while looping it on “Own Design” and “Borders.” Now, this is where I want to focus more of my attention as I have focused most of my attention on “Borders” and “Salt Year” since downloading the album.
“Borders” is the most entrancing track on Salt Year. On this song, Bathgate’s looping never gets tedious, if anything, it adds more meaning. The repetitiveness reminds me of the ticking of a clock. You know, the kind that you can’t help but focus on because it’s the only noise in the room. It also reminds me of someone pacing – paranoid, restless and anxious, the same feelings I get while listening to the song. Each time I have played “Borders,” I’m brought back to my days of depression with the verse: “Well, I don’t get by on a happy tune/And, I don’t get sun in the afternoon/ And when the evening fear is just coming on/ I’m all static and quivering with the shades all drawn.” It’s hard to let the world and light in once you’ve been hurt. The only thing you want to do is draw the shades and hide in the dark.
Next, the album’s thesis, “Salt Year,” is a thoughtful reflection on love lost and the time that passes since losing that love. In this song, Bathgate gives a clear impression of heartbreak, heartache and regret. The anguish I feel while listening to this song is sometimes unbearable. The languishing pedal steel cuts to the core of my soul, but the bright horns toward the end as Bathgate repeats “try again” does leave me with some hope. It’s an absolutely beautiful and haunting piece of music in which I have connected to on a deep personal level.
Hell, I’ve connected to the entire album on an emotional level. I don’t know if it’s because I’ve experienced similar losses and felt the same pain in the past, or if it’s because of a recent loss I’ve had to deal with, but this album strikes a profound personal chord. I mean, the loss that I’m dealing with is not a loss in the sense of death (although I’ve been coping with that too) but one in the form of a move,and not just a move to another neighborhood, to another continent. Maybe that’s not it. Truth is, I think I’m going through an existential crisis. I’m growing older and coming upon a birthday, so I’m taking stock of my life including my current and constant state of living single and feeling lonely but that soon will pass.
I don’t mean to brag….actually, yeah, I do…but, I have some great blogger friends who have agreed to contribute a piece to CFM’s new beer and music pairing feature entitled “With the Grain.” The plan is to run this feature for as long as there is beer, music and willing writers with the intention to deliver a brief regional and international impression of what is making earbuds sing and tastebuds dance.
Brimming with Southern charm, Nell Robinson’s new album, On the Brooklyn Road, is rooted deeply in its culture as a bucoulic celebration of family and heritage. Named after the red clay dirt road leading to her family’s rural Alabama farm, this record includes ”field recordings” recounting family stories and folklore from Robinson’s mother and uncles . Produced by Nell and Jim Nunally, On the Brooklyn Road is a collection of original and traditional songs that showcase Nell’s lovely, crystal-clear voice while featuring a stellar lineup of bluegrass musicians like Nunally, Laurie Lewis, John Reischman, Keith Little and Rob Ickes among others.
In June, Nick 13, the front man for the psychobilly band, Tiger Army, released his self-titled solo album on Sugar Hill Records. The aptly self-titled album blends country, hillbilly, and Americana perfectly mirroring Nick and his respect for the genres proving him to be more than just a psychobilly punk. Earlier this week, I 
Earlier this afternoon, here in West Virginia and throughout the East Coast we experienced an earthquake, but in Indianapolis, WTTS debuted “Lucky Now” from Ryan Adams’ long-awaited solo album, Ashes & Fire, due out October 11 via PAX-AM/Capitol. And, after the release of the disastrous sci-fi metal Orion, I was heartbroken. Now after listening to the new single my heart is mending with every strum of the acoustic guitar, every note of its electric guitar solo and each chord on the piano. This is Adams’ best song since 2001′s Gold.
Psychobilly band, Tiger Army’s lead singer and guitarist, Nick 13, released his first full-length solo album in June via Sugar Hill. Now, don’t be fooled into thinking this is going to sound like another Tiger Army record because it isn’t. Nick’s solo effort is an addictive collection of retro country arrangements with a touch of rockabilly and enriched with guitar, pedal steel, and upright bass. But, it’s his smooth and easy vocals that perfect these vintage countrified tunes.
Ben Fisher, a singer-songwriter from Seattle, has just released his first full-length album, Heavy Boots & Underwoods, earlier this summer. Carving out a niche for himself busking, Fisher has moved to the studio in hopes to do the same. Partially funded by a Kickstarter campaign, the majority of the record’s support came from the generous people roaming the farmer’s markets or walking the Seattle streets. An enterprising street performer, Fisher would rather busk than book a show at one of Seattle’s many clubs. This passion even comes through in the raw, acoustic production of Heavy Boots & Underwoods, a commendable effort both musically and lyrically. I’m certain the future holds more for Fisher. Maybe a more polished busker? You know what they say, you can take the busker off the streets but you can’t take the busker out of the artist…Or, something like that.
