Easy on the Ears

© RCA Records

Every period in history needs a troubadour. And Ray LaMontagne may just be ours. 

Teaming up with a backup band, the Pariah Dogs, for God Willin’ & The Creek Don’t Rise (RCA Records), out today, La Montagne brings the folksy tales of the wondering troubadour with a 21^st century spin.

The album begins with “Repo Man,” a gritty plugged-in tune with syncopated-grooves. Here LaMontagne shows you that folk music can have a tinge of acrimony and his new friends – bassist Jennifer Condos, keyboardist Patrick Warren, guitarist Eric Haywood, pedal steel player Greg Leisz and drummer Jay Bellerose – help him deliver without drowning out LaMontagne’s signature sound.

Throughout the album, LaMontagne's buttery vocals accompany us as we move from poverty, to heartbreak, to urban isolation. The subjects may be dark, but the album makes surprising good company. 

The second track, “New York City’s Killing Me” is the first standout. "There's just something 'bout this ho-tel, got me wishing I was dead," LaMontagne croons. But instead of wishing you were dead, you'll close your eyes and sway back and forth, loving the moment and the soaring vocals that induce it.

Other standouts are "Beg Steal or Borrow," which feels absolutely ripe for radio play, and "Old Before Your Time." Both seem to jump from the lineup of songs on God Willin', adding even more to the American roots folk that LaMontagne has come to master.

It wouldn't be a LaMontagne without a love song or two and God Willin' delivers on that front too. The best are the sweet, sad, "Are We Really Through," and the just plain wonderful "Like Rock and Roll & Radio."

"Are we strangers now, like Rock and Roll and the radio?" LaMontagne sings, while the band behind him is at its quietest, giving up the stage almost completely to LaMontagne's voice and sweet acoustic strums.

By the end, we're back with the backwater bluesy bar sound from the beginning – bookending an otherwise quiet album by reminding us that LaMontagne's no longer going it alone.