10.23.06

That’s right, we’re back and starting anew, close to home

Posted in CDBaby, chris milam, some albums we done liked others we ain't - October 23rd, 2006 at 8:45 pm by Cricket

So after a long hiatus filled with house guests, insanity and tequila, I sat down to review the albums that seems to building up from inattention here at HCT HQ. [I am taking time off from the same, PLUS there's my busy scifi-viewing schedule which is too copious for me to insert mean remarks here.—Mimi]

At the top of my stack is Chris Milam’s Leaving Tennessee which I’ve been meaning to review since he came and did a podcast with us a while back.

I find myself in hard position writing this review. See, being in Nashville means I get to hear a lot more from musicians than just what they have released. Chris is one of those musicians that’s close enough for me to stalk and follow closely live and as a person. Chris is good enough that I do exactly that.

For one, he’s an exceptional songwriter. There are a lot of songwriters here, since it’s Nashville and all. I could go hear half a dozen of them nearly every night if I devoted myself to nothing but songwriting rounds in Nashvegas. But I don’t, I sit around and listen to a handful of what works for me, a small handful that includes Chris Milam. There is a compelling immediacy to Chris’s lyrics. Whether he’s writing about love and loss or politics, he crawls through blues, rock, country, folk and pop with definite impact. His skill as a songwriter surpasses many artists twice his age.

On “Whenever it Rains,” Chris sings of being haunted by a girl now gone, though I hear underneath that the changed season here in Tennessee, the cold, autumn comes through. The song carries the same melancholy as a season that’s left the warm blanket of summer behind. It’s more a slow pop song than anything else on the album, but it doesn’t suffer because of that.

“On a Wire” and “Ain’t the Way” almost seem to channel love songs of the 50s or early 60s. There’s a slow melodic tempo to these that sends you back to times past, if you’re my age, times you don’t even remember but still carry a strange fondness for. “On a Wire” has a roughness to the lyrics that fill in images of sweet-voiced boys in white t-shirts, with cigarettes rolled up in their sleeves. Especially when Chris sings, Well, the stars are out, but they don’t look bright/ Let’s drink some gasoline, maybe start a fire/Let’s park the old Supreme, maybe start a fight. “Ain’t the Way” is a little sweeter, lighter and sadder, painting a picture of a girl I always imagine with hair sprayed up, long skirt swinging around her calves as she looks sadly on at the singer, stirring something in him that he longs for but can’t quite define.

The stand-out lyrically on Leaving Tennessee is “Lisa, My Dear (I Look Better Alone).” The production on this song isn’t quite as heavy as it is on some of the other songs allowing the strength of the words shine through. There’s such a loneliness here–the protagonist sends the object of the some away, saying he looks better alone, until it finally comes through that really he thinks she’s better off without him. I don’t know if it’s autumn being the season of melancholy or something else, but I really feel a sharp ache whenever I listen to this.

“Memphis Queen” stacks Memphis girls up against girls from other places. It’s a great song, definitely the most radio friendly of the bunch, and here I mean that as a compliment rather than an insult. If Chris chose to be a pop singer, he could use this as a launching pad and send himself out into the ether of popular music with songs like this one.

But like I said I’m in a unique position here in Tennessee. I’ve heard the songs not on this album and I know first hand that those are what Chris should be showcasing. He’s growing exponentially as a writer. Moving into more folk and blues. He really is at his best with just him and his guitar, allowing an audience to not only focus on the incredible lyrics, but to really feel the emotion and passion beneath them.

Some of his new songs, like “Talking Divinity Blues” veer into the political without being heavy-handed or trite. There’s a level of writing here that’s both more subtle and more detailed than the songs on Leaving Tennessee.

Chris is touring this winter, showcasing his new writing. I’ll be seeing him as often as I can and you should too. I’ll post dates as they come up or keep an eye on his site for news.

In case you missed the podcast, or care more about songs than us HCT girls chattering at musicians, here’s a few songs Chris recently recorded (right click and ’save as’ to download). It’s a zipped file that includes mp3s of “A Song I Used to Know,” “Maria, Maria,” an acoustic version of “Memphis Queen” and “Talking Divinity Blues.” You can hear these alongside the album and get the best idea of the range of stuff Chris is doing, from the almost pop country of the album to the folky strains he produces when it’s just him alone without the band behind him.

Leaving Tennesssee is available on iTunes and our beloved CD Baby.

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