American music. The music on this, the second release from Troy Lindsey, can only be called authentic American music. It’s a little folky, a little country, and a lot which is not so much suffused with anger as pathos.
In this day of manufactured hits seemingly centered on how outrageous a musician or group of musicians can act, rather than true talent, it’s a clean breath of fresh air to hear authentic music, rather than the histrionically psychotic crap that passes for music, which in today’s music world is often the kiss of death, it seems.
Lindsey doesn’t have a sweet, treacly voice. He has an honest voice. Honesty permeates this entire disc, with honest emotion and feeling delivered with heartfelt sincerity. Honesty permeates the entire production, with the cover showing two people, the two vocalists, Lindsey and Kristen McCamey, against a Western landscape backdrop. It’s rough, rugged country with the sun turning the sky orange. It’s fitting to rough, rugged music. And Lindsey knows rugged.
Instrumentation is superb throughout both in the quality and the spareness. It’s just a man, a woman, and a guitar. That’s what comes across. There are plenty of other musicians backing this duo, and they’re all there to support the vocal, which is the strength of this record.
It is a view of the world in song. A listener immediately understands that Lindsey’s a “get ‘er done” kind of guy. No flowery language, and no false emotion, just a modern-day Jack Webb: “Just the facts, ma’am. Just the facts.” And Lindsey’s not happy with the facts of today’s world, where it doesn’t make so much difference in what you say as how you say it. Eyewash is everything; content is unimportant in today’s world. That’s the underlying message here.
There’s a lot of hidden subtext here as well, which at first listen isn’t always apparent. If you don’t catch it, listen again. You may just be cognizant enough to catch it.
There’s one song on this CD about which Lindsey says, “Funny how that song is tucked away in the CD it gets very little recognition. But it might be the one thing that brought all this together.” See if you can figure out which one this is. You’ll be a better person for it.
Lindsey doesn’t sound like Neil Young or Tom Waits, but he reminds me of both: “Listen to the lyric, man. The lyric.” That’s the message that’s being driven home throughout this disc, the same that’s being driven in Waits’ or Young’s compositions.
Ride Across The Sun is not to be missed.