I’m all for artistic left turns, but the artists themselves often wind up in precarious positions when they try to evolve. Even those with the best and most successful intentions end up facing criticism from their fan base for deviating from their previous path. This ultimately turns into a “damned if you do” situation. I can’t imagine that most music fans would be comfortable hearing the same ol’ same from their favorite artists year after year. I certainly wouldn’t.
This brings us to the curious case of Ray LaMontagne. The Maine native isn’t a household name, but his profile has risen sharply in the decade since his stunning debut, Trouble. His most recent album, God Willin’ & The Creek Don’t Rise, found the Maine native co-billing a band (The Pariah Dogs) for the first time, working some different flavors into his music (a la the James Brown-esque “Repo Man”) and earning a Grammy for his, err… trouble. For his fifth album, Supernova, Ray has ditched The Pariah Dogs name, and teamed up with Black Key Dan Auerbach (who has produced excellent albums for Dr. John and others) for an album that contains elements of psychedelia amid Ray’s more traditional singer/songwriter influences. It’s a completely commercial move that’s also-somehow -completely uncommercial…and Ray pulls it off, although it may take you a couple of listens to fully appreciate it.
I’ve talked about Supernova‘s title track a couple of times in the past few weeks, and while the bouncy tune is a bit of a left turn for sure, it’s got an irresistible summer vibe that, in an ideal world, would place it on national airwaves 10 times a day. Of course, I don’t think pop radio has room for a bearded 40 year old dude with a guitar. That’s a shame, because “Supernova” might be the best single of Ray’s career. I can’t say any other song on the album approaches “Supernova”‘s level of ear candy, although the chugging “Julia” comes close. It’s got a “rockin’ down the highway” ’70s AM radio vibe that calls to mind some of ZZ Top’s more rootsy efforts. “Drive-In Movies” has a chorus big enough to park a bus on, and sounds like a slightly more accessible version of the type of song that would have been on a previous Ray album.
If you’re a Black Keys fan, it’ll be fairly easy to pick out some of Dan Auerbach’s tried and true production elements, but Ray still manages to impose his personality onto the album. The album’s lyrics (for the most part) still emanate from a darker place than most singer/songwriters, and tracks like “No Other Way” combine Ray’s classic sound with a slightly warped version of the Laurel Canyon Neil Young/Jackson Browne sound that’s informed John Mayer’s last couple of albums. Think “Born & Raised” after a few bad acid trips (seriously–that’s a compliment.)
In the instant gratification age, you sometimes forget that albums may take a while to reveal their awesomeness to you. Combined with the slight stylistic left turn Ray is making, it’s probably easy to give Supernova a cursory listen, decide you’re not with it, and toss it on the discard pile. I’m here to say that doing so might be a rash decision. Supernova might strike the best balance of radio-ready tunes to woozy experiments that Ray’s achieved in his career so far. Give it a few listens. It’ll surprise you.