Meg White
I saw you on the big screen
Oh, Jack was king, but you stole the scene
I’ve seen Ray LaMontagne perform twice. The first time was in the back of the Downtown Crossing Borders in Boston in 2004 or 2005. I’d been hearing “Trouble” on the radio and I needed so see this guy for myself. I dragged my buddy Urbs with me and we both walked away impressed. Granted, it’s not that hard to get across quiet intensity to a group of 35 people standing a few feet from you.
The second time I saw him was at Bonnaroo in 2005. I’d been raving about him to my buddy Ben, but was honestly a little unsure whether LaMontagne would be able to connect with the much larger audience of the outdoor Tennessee tent. My concerns were unwarranted. The guy just exudes passion.
If quiet intensity has a a Wikipedia page, you’ll find a link there to Ray LaMontagne. His raw, breathy singing draws you in and commands your attention. His soulful delivery evokes those passionate wordless moments you’ve spent in complete in synchronicity with a lover. I’m not joking.
But here’s the problem, he’s done all that before. We know what he brings to the table. The challenge he faced with Gossip in the Grain was to keep it interesting. In general terms, I’d say he’s succeeded, but the results are mixed.
The album opens with “You Are the Best Thing,” backed by a horn section taking cues from The Band’s Rock of Ages. The results, actually, sound like something out of the Ray Charles songbook. Not a bad way to open an album.
What disappoints me, however, is that the rest of the album is far less adventurous. The songs are sweet and would provide a lovely soundtrack for Sunday at home with your wife and a book. In fact, you could probably take the rest of his albums and throw it all on shuffle without giving it much thought. It’s perfectly pleasant, but not enough of it stands out. That’s a shame.
Meg White
There are other highlights, however, most notably the super-random “Meg White,” from which I quoted above. I think that verse might be referencing the scene she’s in with bandmate (and guitarist extraordinaire Jack White) in Jim Jarmusch’s Coffee and Cigarettes. If so, I certainly credit his cinematic taste. Still, his song about wanting to take a walk with the White Stripe’s drummer ranks as bizarre. Sweet, but bizarre.
Another standout is “Sarah,” an apology written on the chassis of a waltz. Probably the best lyric of the album, the narrator addresses a lost love on whom he walked out. Having refused advise to solve his unnamed problems, the narrator instead abandoned everything he knew and cared about without even the courage to say goodbye. Now, he questions whether he can ever repair the damage he’s done.
Gossip in the Grain is a good album and an enjoyable listen. I suspect there will be plenty of times in my life where it is a very natural fit to a particular situation. I just hope I actually think to put it on.
