Garett Press
02/02/06, 12:02 PM
Rocky Votolato – Makers
{SCORE: 8.8/10}
1. What Daisy Passing
2. Portland is Leaving
3. The Night's Disguise
4. She Was Only in it For the Rain
5. Uppers Aren't Neccessary
6. Wait Out the Days
7. Streetlights
8. Tennessee Train Tracks
9. Goldfield
10. Tinfoil Hats
11. Where We Left Off
12. Makers
Rocky Votolato is the type of musician who makes my job easy. His voice and his sound are as one so picturesque and evocative, the descriptive adjectives and sonic metaphors could practically write themselves. A throat warming whiskey, the crackle of a dim hearth flame, a creaky wooden rocking chair, and the homely twang of a handmade acoustic guitar… if there was ever an image projected by musical composition, this is that of Rocky Votolato’s Makers.
In many senses, Makers is an album you’d expect from someone much older than Rocky V. Whereas Suicide Medicine seemed made to accompany a road trip slideshow (and Makers does as well to an extent), Makers gives a stronger vibe of a more stationary, road-weary Rocky; riper with a few years of age, pensive in reflection, contemplative of his rung on the ladder of success and love, and confidently deliberating the slow road to the grave. It’s a meditative pleasure to hear these ruminations in audio format and worth listening to if only for the invigorating refreshment of hearing acoustic rock with maroccas, slide guitar, tambourines, and harmonicas done right, ohhhh so right. All too rarely are we afforded the opportunity to enjoy this winning combination in such pure form.
Again as always, Votolato exercises his knack for tearing – and I mean tearing! – into the human core with soulful chords and worn melodic vocals. There are times where the laceration in your heartstrings is almost tangible, and this is by no means a relationship record. The romantic words penned for “The Night’s Disguise” (“the clouds are holding up the dawn / they're stilts or crutches I can't tell which one / to keep the short days looking longer / or to keep the sunlight from falling on broken legs / but the night's disguise is wearing thin”) work in beautiful contradiction with the convictive chorus; it’s a juxtaposition that stirs me every time. In other highlights, the piano accompanied outro of “Goldfield”, the rat-tat verses of “She Was Only in it for the Rain”, the dreamy finger picked conclusion of “Streetlights”, and the blossoming harmonies in “White Daisy Passing” all make for a thoroughly satisfying listen. I imagine that if we lived in an era that idolized brilliant singer/songwriters, Rocky would be a fan favorite.
As a record, it shares a similar flaw with Suicide Medicine. Until you’ve had repeated sittings, several tracks may fail to grip you, especially towards the tail end. It is also not as instantly attractive as Rocky’s past efforts, but picture it in this manner: you’ve encountered the attractive young adult, and now allow me to introduce you to the slightly wrinkled elder man. Don’t necessarily favor immediate appeal, but instead, seek out the wisdom within… then make your judgments.
Mine? Makers is as intoxicating as the whiskey after which it’s named.
{SCORE: 8.8/10}
1. What Daisy Passing
2. Portland is Leaving
3. The Night's Disguise
4. She Was Only in it For the Rain
5. Uppers Aren't Neccessary
6. Wait Out the Days
7. Streetlights
8. Tennessee Train Tracks
9. Goldfield
10. Tinfoil Hats
11. Where We Left Off
12. Makers
Rocky Votolato is the type of musician who makes my job easy. His voice and his sound are as one so picturesque and evocative, the descriptive adjectives and sonic metaphors could practically write themselves. A throat warming whiskey, the crackle of a dim hearth flame, a creaky wooden rocking chair, and the homely twang of a handmade acoustic guitar… if there was ever an image projected by musical composition, this is that of Rocky Votolato’s Makers.
In many senses, Makers is an album you’d expect from someone much older than Rocky V. Whereas Suicide Medicine seemed made to accompany a road trip slideshow (and Makers does as well to an extent), Makers gives a stronger vibe of a more stationary, road-weary Rocky; riper with a few years of age, pensive in reflection, contemplative of his rung on the ladder of success and love, and confidently deliberating the slow road to the grave. It’s a meditative pleasure to hear these ruminations in audio format and worth listening to if only for the invigorating refreshment of hearing acoustic rock with maroccas, slide guitar, tambourines, and harmonicas done right, ohhhh so right. All too rarely are we afforded the opportunity to enjoy this winning combination in such pure form.
Again as always, Votolato exercises his knack for tearing – and I mean tearing! – into the human core with soulful chords and worn melodic vocals. There are times where the laceration in your heartstrings is almost tangible, and this is by no means a relationship record. The romantic words penned for “The Night’s Disguise” (“the clouds are holding up the dawn / they're stilts or crutches I can't tell which one / to keep the short days looking longer / or to keep the sunlight from falling on broken legs / but the night's disguise is wearing thin”) work in beautiful contradiction with the convictive chorus; it’s a juxtaposition that stirs me every time. In other highlights, the piano accompanied outro of “Goldfield”, the rat-tat verses of “She Was Only in it for the Rain”, the dreamy finger picked conclusion of “Streetlights”, and the blossoming harmonies in “White Daisy Passing” all make for a thoroughly satisfying listen. I imagine that if we lived in an era that idolized brilliant singer/songwriters, Rocky would be a fan favorite.
As a record, it shares a similar flaw with Suicide Medicine. Until you’ve had repeated sittings, several tracks may fail to grip you, especially towards the tail end. It is also not as instantly attractive as Rocky’s past efforts, but picture it in this manner: you’ve encountered the attractive young adult, and now allow me to introduce you to the slightly wrinkled elder man. Don’t necessarily favor immediate appeal, but instead, seek out the wisdom within… then make your judgments.
Mine? Makers is as intoxicating as the whiskey after which it’s named.