CD Odyssey Disc 1556: Brandi Carlile

Apologies for my previous review where I mistakenly labeled Clem Snide as Dori Freeman. This error has been repaired, and the individual responsible has been sacked. He was then rehired, however, as he writes all the reviews.

Disc 1556 is…. In These Silent Days

Artist: Brandi Carlile

Year of Release: 2021

What’s up with the Cover? It’s Brandi sporting her new look, which features short hair and a suit and tie. I also wear a suit and tie to work every day, although unlike Carlile I rarely break into song. When I do, I close the office door. You’re welcome, office colleagues.

How I Came To Know It: I am already an avowed Brandi Carlile fan so this was just me buying her new album when it came out.

How It Stacks Up: I now have six Brandi Carlile albums (see ‘avowed fan’ comment above). Competition is tough, and “In These Silent Days” can only manage to land at #5.

Ratings: 3 stars but almost 4

Every now and then some indie artist captures the mainstream attention and becomes a critical darling. When you listen to as many obscure folk singers as I do, the achievement can seem arbitrary, but trust me when I say Brandi Carlile is more than deserving of all the positive attention she’s getting.

“In These Silent Days” is Carlile’s seventh studio album and is yet another solid entry from an artist who seems incapable of taking a bad step. This record has a bit more of an ornate, refined production than some of her efforts, but the core qualities that make her great are all here.

It all starts with her voice. I just watched a documentary on the invention of Autotune, and it has made me generally distrustful of studio vocals. How real are they in this new world of digitized excellence? In the case of Carlile, the answer is “real as a heart attack.” Carlile has one of those perfectly pitched vocals that fills every corner of the room and saturates you with feeling.

She’s a gifted storyteller, and while I found the stories on “In These Silent Days” less compelling than some of her earlier work, that vocal is the secret weapon that makes everything she sings seem Very Important. Listening to Carlile sing infuses me with the elation usually reserved for moments like reaching the top of a mountain peak just in time to witness the clouds part beneath you.

“In These Silent Days” has plenty of these moments. “Letter to the Past” finds Carlile belting out advice to her younger self. Even lines that on the page read a bit hackneyed (“You’re a stone wall in a world full of rubber bands”) ring with majesty when she sings them.

This record is Carlile’s usual mix of folk, country, and pop, and although it is the least folksy of her records, it’s still pretty folksy. The rough guitar strum on “You and Me On the Rock” reminded me of the Indigo Girls, but it was that later, more pop-flavoured incarnation of the band. Fortunately, I like that incarnation of the Indigo Girls just as much.

Fueled by the talented writing of the Hanseroth twins, Carlile backs up her vocals with exceptional song construction. “This Time Tomorrow” is particularly powerful, with lyrics like:

“But our holy dreams of yesterday aren’t gone
They still haunt us like the ghosts of Babylon
And the breaking of the day might bring you sorrow
You know I may not be around this time tomorrow
But I’ll always be with you.”

These lines are powered with a melody that falls at the end of each line except the last, which starts down there and lifts up again, with an overall effect that is half sad, half reassuring. Matching tune with words in this way seems obvious, but there is a subtle art to it that Carlile and the Hanseroths have mastered like few others.

I don’t love every aspect of this record. While the lyrics are often great, there are moments, like the “world of rubber bands” line above, which feel forced. Equally, the old timey “Stay Gentle” is supposed to feel like a throwback to a simpler era, but it is a bit saccharine. Only Carlile’s incredible voice keeping it upright. “Sinners, Saints and Fools” wants to be a deep metaphor, but it feels a bit overwrought, as if infected with a Broadway musical. Or maybe it is great, and it is just my dislike of musicals.

The final song on the record, “Good After Bad” is one of Carlile’s finest vocal performances. A single piano sets the only backdrop she needs to paint a song that is sad, sweet and perfect. Some of the high notes she hits in this song are angelic and had me forgiving any minor issues I’d had here and there earlier on the record.

While I only put this record #5 out of 6, I still like it a lot, and it will receive plenty of paying time in the years to come.

Best tracks: This Time Tomorrow, Letter to the Past, Mama Werewolf, Throwing Good After Bad