Brandi Carlile's 7th studio album was released a little while back and, although it just missed the top 10, it bears listening just about as much as Adele's 30...

 

Brandi Carlile is a known entity to any connoisseur of contemporary American music. Which is fairly logical, given that she has released 7 studio albums since 2005, two of which made the top 10 (the latest one reaching 11… so close…), not to mention quite a few high profile featurings on other artists’ records, including most recently a certain Alicia Keys on her somewhat monumental double album KEYS (which we also — and brilliantly — reviewed). That would be enough for many artists to call it a day, but Miss Carlile is not many artists…

For starters, her musical style is a rather unique blend of rock, folk, blues and country all merged into one giant vehicle for the singer’s truly remarkable voice. Not every day do you stumble upon vocalists who are both technically remarkable — and near instantly recognisable. Yet Carlile is just that: a vocal powerhouse that you won’t mistake for anyone else. Second, there is this profound soulfulness to her work that reminds of a younger Bruce Springsteen or some giant 1960’s soul(wo)man… anyone with a message, really. All of that delivered with a sort of ease that can be quite disconcerting.

The new album, In These Silent Days, very much follows in the footsteps of its predecessors. A stylish, compact and highly sophisticated collection of songs, it is both extremely enjoyable and just a tad saddening. Saddening because it only features 10 tracks (trap artists have had us accustomed to twice as much), saddening because it only clocks in at 38 minutes and 22 seconds, saddening because it comes with an overall feeling of soft sorrow in many/most of its contents. Starting with the grandiose lead single “Right On Time”, or with the beautifully harmonic “This Time Tomorrow”, or else “Letter To The Past” (the title says it all). To be clear, there are exceptions to the rule: the Lucius duet “You and Me On The Rock” or the breezy “Mama Werewolf” are somewhat lighter fare, which is nice…

Last but not least, Carlile’s rock flair shows up episodically, with a couple of knock-out guitar riffs to show for and those ever present vocals. Case in point: the ambitious “Sinners, Saints and Fools”, which ends on a flurry of guitars, piano — and well placed strings. But perhaps the most accomplished track on the album happens to be “Broken Horses”, which singlehandedly bridges the gap between Dolly Parton circa 1973 and Guns N’ Roses circa 1991 — and everything in-between. A powerful mix of country-infused folk at its start, it eventually morphs into a heavy rock piece with a bluesy feel that is most welcome. And, again, that voice…

In short, and while Brandi Carlile may be an open secret to many at this point, you should still spend more time in your day listening to her work. Starting now.