|Photo by Curtis Wave Millard|
I am not early, when it comes to music. This is weird, both because I am perpetually early when it comes to arriving places, and also I write about music and photograph musicians, and aren’t music bloggers always on the cutting edge? Most of them are. I am not. I have ruts. I have favorite artists. My ruts and my favorite artists are fine, thank you. So what this means is that by the time I came to the Head and the Heart and their excellent self-titled debut a few years ago, they were already big enough to play the Lincoln Theatre in Raleigh, one of the larger club rooms in the Triangle. In contrast: it took the National four albums to be big enough to play the Lincoln. The Head and the Heart did it with one.
way, has a lot of weight on their shoulders in producing a second one,
and while I don’t think there’s a song on Let’s Be Still that’s
as tailor made for enormous echoing sing-alongs as “Rivers and Roads”, I
think it’s a solid second effort for a band that often seemed surprised
by their success. The weight of that can be too heavy for some bands,
and end in albums that don’t do justice to the musicians behind them,
but Let’s Be Still is not one of those. It is an album
that sounds and says it’s tired, and it’s unsure, but I think that the
uncertainty of it, and the way it never quite coheses into an album as opposed to a collection of songs, are in its favor.
more electric sounds of this record, one of the many things that
separates this album from the self-titled. It starts with
a deceptively simple piano and fiddle line, before the harmonized vocals
come in with an equally simple sound: so now i know, people want a story, one ending with glory.
The first verse is melancholy and lonely, and then the chorus explodes
with a rattle of tambourines before galloping into the same piano and
fiddle melody, which somehow seems to expand every time it pulls to the
front. A song about soldiers returning from war, it pounds with the same
kind of worldly empathy that the self-titled album was filled with.
“Summertime” and “Springtime”, when Charity Rose Thielen’s stunning
voice — if you’ve seen the band live, you know how she can tear it down
— is allowed to lead rather than harmonize. I’m not certain that the
synthesizers on those songs serve the delivery of the songs the best
they could, but the sound is second to Thielen’s vocals, which the band
does well to bring a little more to the front on this album, including a
powerful moment in first single “Shake”, where her voice chimes in on
the last repetitions of the chorus to drive home the heart of that song.
“Shake” remains the strongest song on the record, with its insistent
chorus of more and more layered vocals: even if it was a mistake, you won’t forget the man who’s making you shake.
It’s a shimmering and driving song with the sort of sharp lyrics that
charaterize THATH’s songwriting, and the energy that impressed crowds
and listeners on the self-titled album explodes from it.
on song subjects that I am deeply fond of, and do it well; the life of a
musician on the road is tough, and for a band like THATH whose rise was
pretty steep and fast, it could certainly have been disorienting,
resulting in the plaintive chorus just for a moment, let’s be still.
The life of any artist is not an easy one, and sometimes those moments
are hard to find on the road. “Let’s Be Still” uses a resonant piano
line to mimic the loneliness that’s all over the lyrics, and it slows
down a record that has, to point, hurtled along (in a good way) towards
something undefined. “10,000 Weight In Gold” is a song about what we
leave behind — the people we love — for a life doing what we
love. A heartbreaking ode to time passing that climbs slowly and
steadily to its crashing conclusion, “10,000 Weight” is the largest,
loudest song on the record, and maybe the saddest. Its crashing drums
and piano abruptly stop at the 4 minute mark and the song shivers
through its ending ohh-ohhhs like a lonesome ghost.
“Fire / Fear” sounds most like the self-titled album, with the
vocal delivery patterns that almost exactly match the delivery of I’ve given up my Bible, you’ve moved out of state.
It isn’t the same emotional mood as “Coeur D’Alene”, perhaps the exact
opposite, in fact — but the similarity in sound made it stick out for
me, a call back to that last record with a song that showcases the
themes of weariness, and loneliness, that run in strong lines through Let’s Be Still.
range of styles sometimes works here, and sometimes falters. Isn’t that
how we all change and move forward? Sometimes we make mistakes, and
sometimes we need to be still.
Get Down Stay Down; they play St. Louis at the Pageant on 10/22 and
Raleigh at the Ritz on 11/10. I’m looking forward to the live show,
which I think will showcase some of these songs as energy-building
foot-stompers in a way that they aren’t on the album. You should be,