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Brandi Carlile
Brandi Carlile: a voice to be reckoned with. Photograph: Supplied
Brandi Carlile: a voice to be reckoned with. Photograph: Supplied

The best alt-country albums of 2015 (so far)

This article is more than 9 years old

The year isn’t a quarter old and Brandi Carlile, the Lone Bellow, Drew Holcomb and American Aquarium have made fine albums outside country’s mainstream

Call it Americana, call it southern rock, call it “indie folk,” or just call it “alternative”. There’s a whole category of rather difficult-to-place music out there that shares roots with traditional country music and is increasingly attracting the genre’s fans with its combination of hearty melodies, sincere harmonies, winsome lyrics and real, authentic instrumentation.

2015 has already been a tremendous year for this brand of alt-country, and in less than three months, several truly excellent records have appeared. Here are four of my favourites from the first quarter of this year:

Brandi Carlile – The Firewatcher’s Daughter

If there’s anyone in music that truly understands her voice, it’s Brandi Carlile. Every song on her latest album, which debuted at No 1 on Billboard’s rock album chart, uses her throaty instrument, which cracks and breaks and shakes in all the loveliest ways, to its fullest extent. The stripped-back stunner The Eye is carried by complex harmonies from Carlile and her bandmates, twins Tim and Phil Hanseroth. And when the music get raucous, as it does on songs like Alibi, Carlile’s voice proves just as powerfully affecting. Her vocal prowess amplifies the fine, mature songwriting on The Firewatcher’s Daughter, which reflects on not just romantic love but the importance of community. It is a gorgeous album through and through.

The Lone Bellow – Then Came the Morning

Exuberance defines the musical output of the Lone Bellow, a Brooklyn outfit that arrived in 2013 with a debut album that showcased their bold three-part harmonies and their keen handle on melody. The band continues to evoke elements of gospel, blues, country and folk on their second album, produced by the National’s Aaron Dessner, and even in their most melancholy moments (see the mournful Marietta), they adeptly stir up moments of genuine wonder and hope. Vocally, the album is a thrill ride, and not just because of frontman Zach Williams’s fiery wail. Lead vocals from Brian Elmquist (fervent on Watch Over Us) and Kanene Donehey Pipkin (gracefully measured on Call to War) reveal what the Lone Bellow’s fans already understand: that each member is an essential piece of an act whose career is crescendoing as beautifully as one of their grand refrains.

Drew Holcomb and the Neighbors – Medicine

There’s a casual straightforwardness about Medicine that makes it go down easy. Holcomb, a Nashville resident, demonstrates once again his ability to craft confident acoustic compositions with deliberate lyrics about life, love and spirituality, and he does so without any of the proselytising lyricism that folk performers are wont to move towards. Pedal steel provides a laid-back ambience on many of the tracks, and Holcomb’s nigh-conversational delivery style (occasionally intertwined with his wife Ellie’s soulful voice) beckons a listener instead of blowing them away. This collection of songs finds Holcomb reflecting on his marriage, but more often than not, his songwriting turns to the world-weary people who just need a small dose of compassion. Here We Go and Ain’t Nobody Got It Easy are pitch-perfect exercises in musical empathy.

American Aquarium – Wolves

The country-rock band from Raleigh, NC, have made something special with their eighth set, Wolves, an album driven by the beleaguered lyrics of leading man BJ Barham, who’s not one to think especially highly of himself. Lesser songwriters might get overly fixated on angst, but Barham wisely tempers every disenchanted sentiment with a few shades of contentment, and in doing so he paints a vivid portrait of a man who has come face to face with his own demons and lived to tell about it. Losing Side of 25 is an anthem for any young adult wondering about his place in the world, and Southern Sadness is a rollicking reflection on Barham’s own tendency to morbidity. Twangy and intricate guitar licks drive the set, which will appeal to country and rock fans alike.

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