Lateness of Dancers
,
Hiss Golden Messenger
's debut for
Merge
, is a more melodic and polished affair than we're used to; it is also true that founder and songwriter
M.C. Taylor
's songwriting and vision have grown considerably since 2013's fine
Haw
.
-- its title taken from a
Eudora Welty
story -- retains that source's earthiness as it engages everything from folk, country-rock, back-country fiddle music, and even Southern R&B, the latter by way of an electric piano whose use recalls Muscle Shoals and
Stax
Taylor
is accompanied by longstanding partner and bassist
Scott Hirsch
(who also plays mandolin and pedal steel) and their veteran drummer
Terry Lonergan
. Guitarist
William Tyler
also returns and contributes considerably. Vocalist
Alexandra Sauser-Monnig
of
Mountain Man
and
Megafaun
's
Phil
Brad Cook
, as well as others, also appear. Opener "Lucia" borrows the one-two, one-two rhythmic thump so prevalent near the end of
Bob Dylan
Street Legal
-- smearing it with
Bobby Charles
' greasy groove sensibilities as
Tyler
's wah-wah Stratocaster, distorted steel guitars, and Wurlitzer blur in the backdrop.
's lyric is couched in reverie and symbolic mysticism, and rolls atop the center confidently. While "Mahogany Dread" digs into the past, it celebrates the more humble present with gratitude, underscored by a sprawling B-3 and
's tight, tasteful fills. The title track scales it all back. A simple acoustic guitar introduces
's grainy vocal in offering some of the record's finest lyrics, a piano,
Sauser-Monnig
's gentle backing vocal, and a subtle organ to underscore his purposeful delivery. "I'm a Raven (Shake Children)" is a downright snaky, nearly funky blues;
Charles
' spirit and
Dylan
's R&B period come wafting -- though more economically -- through again. A different version of that idea -- this time evocative of
J.J. Cale
-- haunts the stellar "Southern Grammar." "Black Dog Wind (Rose of Roses)" is a slow country waltz. Its lyrics juxtapose the lessons of a father recalled in the protagonist's determination to make his own way no matter the cost. The wisdom of those teachings is illustrated fully -- if not deliberately -- in "Drum," the bittersweet, breezy, back-porch fiddle tune that closes the record. Four albums in,
reveals the arrived-at maturity in
's songwriting, and his ability to convey, in the first-person narratives of his protagonists, a way through the complex notions and pain of living in the world by embracing them on their own terms, with no attempt at escape. The songs, arrangements, and
's and
Hirsch
's deft production are all rimmed with -- not drenched in -- light. Taken together, they underscore the existential grit and elemental spirituality that illustrate
's best work. ~ Thom Jurek