Ray Lamontagne & The Pariah Dogs - God Willin' & The Creek Don't Rise Review
Posted by David Hayter on 08.23.2010
After three successful albums together, the partnership of Lamontagne & Johns is no more; but can Ray still produce the goods without his mastermind producer at his side?
Ray Lamontagne & The Pariah Dogs - God Willin' & The Creek Don't Rise
1. "Repo Man" - 6:08 2. "New York City Is Killing Me" - 4:13 3. "God Willin' & The Creek Don't Rise" - 3:10 4. "Beg Steal Or Borrow - 4:31 5. "Are We Really Through" - 4:59 6. "This Love Is Over" - 3:30 7. "Old Before Your Time" - 4:04 8. "For The Summer" - 3:52 9. "Like Rock & Roll On The Radio" - 6:05 10. "Devil's In The Jukebox" - 3:59
God Willin’ & The Creek Don’t Rise is an important departure for Ray Lamontagne. His forth full length release sees him break from his long term partner and producer Ethan Johns. Their relationship had previously been described as “symbiotic” and Jones was always more than just your average producer. Those stirring tightly woven and punchy arrangements that dominated Lamontagne’s earlier works were the product of Johns creativity and polish. Perhaps as a directed reaction to Ethan’s departure Lamontagne has decided to name and credit his band for the first time, and as such this is the first record by “Ray Lamontagne & The Pariah Dogs”. While many of the faces may have remained the same, it would appear that more of the creative weight now lies with Pariah Dogs, where it would once been shouldered by Ethan Johns. While these changes may appear dramatic, it must be remembered that at Trouble & Till The Sun Turns Black's core was the gorgeous vocals and captivating lyricism of Ray Lamontagne. As before, the success or failure of God Willin' & The Creek Don't Rise will lay first, and foremost, with Ray Lamontagne and not his producer.
In keeping with recent tradition God Willin' & The Creek Don't Rise starts with the customary curve ball. “Repo Man” is an absolutely riot; it’s a groovy countrified take on classic funk. While The Pariah Dogs are certainly tight musically, “Repo Man” and the album as a whole has a loose feel. “Repo Man” rumbles along at an infatuating pace as Ray breaks from his super serious façade. Reminiscing about a former unfaithful lover Ray sounds smooth, sexy and playful; laughing his way through some half-facetious lyricism. At one point he even japes that he should have put his ex-love over his knee. “Repo Man” plays out in almost ramshackle fashion as the Pariah Dogs seem happy just jamming to an undefined conclusion; giving the album a casual feel. “Repo Man” however is a red hearing; just as the Sam Cooke sunshine pop of “You Are The Best Thing” gave way to the deep an mournful “Let It Be” on Gossip In The Grain, God Willin’ & The Creek Don’t Rise soon changes tack.
Lamontagne quickly sets aside the carefree funk for maudlin balladry. There’s no doubting that Ray has an extraordinary talent for the refined slowee but at this stage of his career his continued misery feels rather cliché. “New York City Is Killing Me” is a fine ballad and one that any urbanite can find solace within. Ray’s reflections are certain poignant; “just kicking along the sidewalk, no one looks you in the eye, no one asks you how you’re doing, no one cares if you live or die”. As a Londoner I can appreciate the sentiment “I get so tired of all the concrete, I get so tired of all the noise”. However, while “New York City Is Killing Me” is a beautifully sung and instantly relatable piece, it feels overly familiar. The subject matter of escaping hectic inner city life for the simplicity of the freedom of country life has been done to death, especially by folk and country artists. Thankfully, Lamontagne is delivery and lyricism has plenty of life to it, unfortunately the same cannot be said of the Pariah Dogs. Who have created a tired if not entirely lifeless arrangement that nearly sinks another otherwise emotive and pleasurable track.
The Pariah Dogs arrangements and Lamontagne’s production often falls victim to cliché. With the exceptions of “Repo Man” and “God Willin’ & The Creek Don’t Rise” the arrangements are uniformly uninteresting and predictable. While The Pariah Dogs playing is consistently pleasant their arrangements are rarely memorable. They appear content to loosely jam within the confines of basic conventions of folk and country. The glorious horns or haunting strings that spruced up Gossip In The Grain, and made Till The Sun Turns Black so richly atmospheric are completely absent. It is therefore unsurprisingly to learn that this record was recorded at home by Lamontagne. As it has that unpolished; sitting at home with the boys and just playing feel. These limitations are exposed as the record progressing leading to a final three track run that feels markedly unimaginative, stale, and drawn out. Sadly the band seemed to run out of ideas at the approximately the same time as Lamontagne himself; as the mundane jamming of “Devil’s In The Juke Box” meanders aimlessly towards the records conclusion.
Lyrically Lamontagne seems to be in a typically miserable mood despite the odd red hearing. After expressing his displeasure with inner city life on “New York City Is Killing Me”, Ray soon finds himself homesick and longing for his sweetheart on the album’s title track. As far as peaking the listeners ear “God Willin’ & The Creek Don’t Rise” is the clear stand out. It sees Lamontagne seamlessly melding the melancholic instrumentation of OK Computer with a rasping bluesy vocal and a chugging booming countrified beat. It has an urgency and drive as Lamontagne strains and pleas for his return home. Oddly, any idea that this may be the work of a homesick and lonely touring artist is shattered on “Beg Steal Or Borrow”. Ray suddenly finds himself playing storyteller. He details the early life of a young man desperate to leave his quite and depressing hometown. It appears Lamontagne can find the misery in any walk of life. Even if the mood refuses to lift it does not stop Lamontagne from delivering some truly captivating and insightful lines;
“You’re Drowning In The Small Talk And The Chatter”,
“Old Friends That You New In School,
They Used To Be So Cool, Now They Just Bore You,
Look At Them Now, Already Pulling The Plough,
So Quick To Take To Grain, Like Some Old Mule”
God Willin’ & The Creek Don’t Rise’s message is a curious one; the grass may appear greener on the other side, but it’s not, it’s rotten, but there’s no point turning back, because you’ll only be reminded of why you left in the first place. Not exactly cheerful is it?
As the LP progresses Ray Lamontagne turns his focus from location to love and he offers up a pair of sweet and engrossing ballads. “Are We Really Through” is sparse and reminiscent of the stand out works of both Trouble and Till The Sun Turn Back while “This Love Is Over” is scintillating and sexy. There is no running from it, Ray Lamontagne has one of the sexiest voices in 21st Century music and this kind of loose, low key, but groovy ballad is perfect for his voice and should have ladies sympathetically swooning world wide. These two ballads while not his best work, are a clear reminders of what made Ray Lamontagne stand out from the singer song writer crowd, and made him such an endearing figure on the outskirts of the mainstream.
As God Willin’ & The Creek Won’t Rise winds to it’s conclusion the record begins to fall apart. “Old Before Your Time” may be charming and infectious but it can’t hide its overly indebted syrupy sentimentality. Whereas “For The Summer” is happy to regurgitate previously expressed themes via the medium of an uninteresting and meandering arrangement. “Rock And Roll On The Radio” squanders some early promise with a cringe inducing chorus; “Are We Strangers Now Like Rock ‘n’ Roll And The Radio”. The saccharine pandering is simply too much bare. Which is a shame, as God Willin’ & The Creek Won’t Rise was a record with genuine promise. That had a loose but engaging sound and an intriguing and emotive opening flourish. While Lamontagne was never in danger of making a bad record, God Willin’... has a lazy, unfocused and inconsistent feel. It’s certainly apparent that this is Ray’s first attempt at production and you feel that without Ethan Johns at the helm some of the creativity and focus has been lost. Still God Willin’... has plenty of tricks left up its sleeve, and while this is not a record to set the world on fire, it’s still a largely pleasurable and engaging listen.
The 411: Ray Lamontagne's first self produced record falls short of being a triumph but is still a worthy effort. The Pariah Dogs may be unimaginative in their arrangements but their playing has a loose, engaging and ultimately endearing feel. Lamontagne, for his part, remains true to form serving up an array of miserable maudlin balladry. While we may have heard him express these sentiments before, he still possesses a thought provoking turn of phrase and a gorgeous voice that sits somewhere between Tim Buckley and a white Sam Cooke. Unfortunately the album feels unfocused and noticeably trails off as it enters the final straight. All in all, it's another good effort from Lamontagne but you do have to wonder will if he every cheer up and start laying some more groovy feel good funk. "Repo Man" was a great taster, and I for one, hope he has more where that came from.
