Rating: 7/10
While many mainstream outlets would probably classify it as such, Country Exclusive is not a traditionalist Web site, and I am not a traditionalist writer. I do try to find some country in most of the music I review, and I do respect the roots of the music, but I believe it should move forward rather than backward, and yes, that it should evolve, just not in the ways of radio. You’ll find some reviews very shortly on this blog embracing some rather progressive stuff that those with more traditional views than myself are going to hate. I seek good music from pop country, from Red Dirt, from Americana, from whatever this new thing called fusion country is supposed to be, and from everything in between.
All that said, there is nothing that can quite replace the sound of three-chord country, from the fiddle and steel to the simple musical progressions to the stories and melodies that speak to real lives and real people. And no matter how many subgenres country splits into, it’s still good to see people carrying a torch for traditional country because even though it’s great to hear new ideas and forward-thinking music, it would be a shame if this art form died out completely or became relegated to the past like a forgotten, outdated piece of musical history that had long since run its course.
It’s comforting when you press play on this record and hear those traditional three-chord arrangements, shuffling beats, and simple melodies. Simply put, it’s just a lovely album to listen to instrumentally. My favorite thing I’ve heard about this album compared it to sunrise and springtime, and after some listens, I’d have to say that’s accurate, as it’s really bright and calming and just a good record for this time of year. Although minimalist in its approach, there’s enough variety in tempo and instrumentation to make it quite an engaging listen. It’s true the production is sparse, but within these parameters, there’s quite a bit of variety, from the bluegrass feel of “Cold Mountains” to the shuffle of “Why Don’t You Introduce me as Your Darlin'” to the atmospheric cover of “Last of my Kind.” Incidentally, this is one rare instance where a cover is better than the original.
And much of this feels authentic to Vivian Leva, not just an interpretation of style like some traditional country albums tend to be, but rather an actual outpouring of her emotion expressed through this art form. Her songs speak to love and heartbreak like many of the greatest country songs through the ages, from the wistful, resigned “Bottom of the Glass” to the hopeful yet jaded “No forever.” She looks back on the memories in “Cold Mountains” and wonders aloud what happened to her love and marriage in “Sturdy as the Land.” She’s done wishing for things she knows she can never have in the acoustic “Wishes and Dreams” and admits that she waited too long in the piano-driven closer, “Here I Am.” It all seems to come together in the title track, as she’s trying to move on. This record seems to represent her time dealing with the pain of this lost love and moving on from it for the better.
My biggest criticism of this album is Vivian Leva herself, and if vocals mean a lot to you, this might not be the record for you. Still, it’s a difficult thing to criticize because for some of you, it won’t matter all that much. Any of you who read this regularly will know vocals mean quite a lot to me, and you should know that this album has to be good because basically, I like this despite myself and my personal problems with her voice. And when you hear one of the sample songs, you’ll think I mean her tone, which is frail and soft, but that’s not the biggest issue, as tone is just something that exists; a singer cannot control that. It’s true that you might have to get used to her tone, but the bigger issue is her inflections. She does this sort of half yodel thing that is very similar to Natalie Maines’ style of singing, but unlike Maines, Vivian Leva doesn’t use it to its full effect, sometimes adding this to nearly every syllable in a song. This is most pronounced on “Bottom of the Glass,” which is unfortunately the opener. It’s least noticeable on “Why Don’t You Introduce me as Your Darlin’.” This effect combined with the fragility of her tone also means Leva can sometimes be hard to understand. For me, it’s quite distracting at times and really brings the album down, but for those who don’t care as much about vocals, it won’t be as much of a problem. There is also some weaker writing on the last couple of songs, and the album definitely ends at a lower point than where it begins.
But overall, this record just won me over. The melodies and lyrics are well-written, and there’s enough variety in instrumentation to keep this from suffering the fate of all the boring 2017 independent releases. It’s a charming little album and definitely the most country one I’ve heard in quite awhile. Sometimes it’s just nice to have fiddle and steel in your life, but just because somethings country doesn’t mean it’s good. This, fortunately, is both.