Blessed with sandpaper, world-weary vocals and a penchant for Stones-style sloppiness, Texan Ryan Bingham has taken his brand of Americana down a number of roads.
In 2010, his song The Weary Kind, from the film Crazy Heart, received an Oscar. Three respectably selling albums later and he’s moved away from his record label to set up his own, while the days of red carpets and endless possibilities appear smaller and smaller in the rear view mirror.
The choice to be true to his muse rather than to the wild winds of celebrity is his own, though, and it makes perfect sense when you listen to the songs he creates.
With a flair for framing painful memories and private longings against an unsettling appraisal of the reality of now, his words cut straight to the core while his tunesmithing is rooted firmly within the county rock mould.
This album is full of little highlights - the furtive dobro entry on Diamond Is Too Rough, the way Radio slips in and out of double time as if it can’t make up its mind which way to go, the fairground mirror reflection of dark words and light melody of Nobody Knows My Trouble - and very few lowlights.
The type of album that could have been recorded 40 years ago and still enjoyed today, Fear And Saturday Night is all about honesty, sincerity and capturing the moment.
The type of album that, while extremely likeable right from the outset, should garner even more respect over time.
Raw and authentic.
Musician, actor, singer, music reviewer, Phil’s interests cover a lot of bases and this is reflected in the music he writes about. From blues to soul, ambient to electronic, Phil writes about artists he feels are interesting, true to their craft and worthy of your ears.