September Music: Nourallah, Wiscons, Wiley and More

 

You have to be a Texan like Salim Nourallah to make a record about a windblown West Texan locale, but Nourallah is the proverbial real deal. See You in Marfa is a 5-song EP inspired by Marfa, a smalltown best known for its spooky atmospheric lights that the predisposed have linked to aliens or paranormal phenomena. The carrot-topped, sweet-voiced Nourallah turns the title song into a love song to both place and an unnamed other. He has an uncanny ability to mix voice and instrumentation in perfect balance and to blend his optimism with just enough edge. “Not Back to Sad” sounds as if it is a cheerful outtake from The Beatles White Album. So does “Hold on to the Night”with its sensible advice to hold on to the night before you give it away. You might expect contentment songs from a guy whose album label is called Happiness, but “Hate the Waiting” has some barbs hiding behind its gentle harmonic wrapper: Hate what you’ve become....  Nourallah doesn’t require a lot of pyrotechnics to impress. Great songwriting–usually in conjunction with his British pal Marty Willson-Piper–does the trick. ★★★★

 

 

 

A lot of people experience midlife crises in their 40s but instead of wallowing, Indiana-based musician Brett Wiscons threw himself into the song that became a project: Late Bloomer. He’s a Midwestern guy specializing in “heartland rock,” a melange of country, rock, and folk as one might expect from one whose musical heroes include Jackson Browne, The Eagles, and Hootie and the Blowfish. Wiscons has a voice that gets labeled “whiskey-soaked” and likes to go big in an arena rock way, though he prefers an acoustic guitar and relies on his friend/co-writer/ producer Thom Daughtery to lay down blistering electric noise. Wiscons gets political on “When You Can’t Breathe,” which is drenched in ominous ambience appropriate for a song based on the murder of George Floyd. “Vertical City,” inspired by the emptiness of New York during the pandemic, invokes heavy country rock. Wiscons also accentuates the positive, as he does on the title track–a semi-autobiographical offering whose central character see analogies between himself and late blooming nature. He teams with Anne Balbo–a stronger harmony voice than a lead–on “Don’t Be the One Who Got Away,” which has a pop vibe, and celebrates parenthood on “Let’s Do It Again.” This is a solid record, though in Wiscons (and especially Balbo) often pour on more vocal power than is needed. Such moments run the risk of overkill and would be more effective with healthy doses of contrast. ★★★

 

 

 

Virginia’s Jon Tyler Wiley draws comparisons to Tom Petty and Bruce Springsteen but he’s swampier and has a grittier voice than either of them. His newest album The Longing is a character-driven, genre-defying collection of tales and situations in modern America. When he sings “Wolves” atop its rock-and-stomp instrumentation, we know he intends to warn us about something other than four-legged critters. Who? Figure it out! It's easier to see Jimmy as a victim of American masculinity in “St. Mary’s River.” This one earns Springsteen analogies in its crank-the-volume storytelling, but “Whiskey” is an atmospheric folky confessional. It tells of trying (and failing) to drown sorrows and crumbling relationship in glasses of fermented fire. Wiley follows with the kick-butt “Just Another Heartbreak Song” in case you didn’t get it in the previous offering. Wiley goes full country balladeer on the waltzy “LaredoTexas Oil Well Blues,” and turns up the funk on “Cake.” The album’s first single was the gritty bring-the-noise “Wannabe,” but I think the song that will first grab most listeners is “He Knew Me,” a litany of personal musical heroes–Hank Williams, Merle Haggard, Johnny Cash, Tom Petty–that he never met, yet spoke to him in ways erstwhile role models never could. ★★★ ½ 

 

 

MP3 can be an unforgiving format. It compresses vocals, which is good news for bad singers like me, but can make chanteuses sound like mush. Alas, this is on display on Other Way Home, the debut album of Toronto’s Meredith Lazowski. One listen to “Prairie” or the minimalist bluesy title track will send you searching for a lyrics sheet. She’s been a visual artist and designer and I’d be the last person to dissuade anyone from following their bliss, but I just don’t think Lazowski has a strong enough or clear enough voice to sustain a musical career without making major adjustments in approach and repertoire. ★

 

 

Ale Giannini performs under the stage name of El Italiano. He’s an Argentine nouveau tango composer and comes by it naturally; his grandfather was a respected Buenos Aires tunesmith as well. El Italiano is cut from different cloth in that his Cross A La Mandibula reflects today’s mashable culture. Though you can discern the roots, his music is as much dubstep as tango, and his vocals tread the boundaries between drama and melodrama. “El Campeón Jacinto Chiclana” could be something from a Baz Luhrmann production. “La Primavera” is Italian for springtime, but sounds North African with accordion backing. “Toro” certainly captures the sanguinary thrill of a bullfight, though there’s nothing particularly Spanish or Argentinian about the melody.  Giannini isn’t my cup of mate, but he might be yours. ★

 

Rob Weir