[rating=9.00]
A super group like The Delines only comes around so often. A collaboration between vocalist Amy Boone, the Decemberists’ Jenny Conlee-Drizos, Minus 5’s Tucker Jackson, Sean Oldham, Freddy Trujillo, and beloved songwriter and novelist Willy Vlautin of Richmond Fontaine, their new record Colfax wipes a finger through the thick layer of dust settled on blue-collar stories of life’s banalities. Drinking at a local dive bar, working a late shift, and one-horse towns are just a smattering of experiences outlined in glorious, Americana detail on Colfax.
Boone’s smoky, soulful vocals are complimented well by Vlautin’s literary lyrics. She’s perfected the weathered, world-weary sound crucial to telling the stories in these dark chapters, and she uses it to authentically embody the characters in each individual one. “He Told Her the City Was Killing Him” is a true roots gem, with all of the signs of a classic American tale of striving for the dream, only to be continuously let down. A failed relationship takes center stage, and a woman endures the struggles of giving her life over to a flaky asshole. It’s this gritty realism of dead-end souls always in search for something better that envelops you in the world created by The Delines.
“I Won’t Slip Up” takes the perspective of a bored young woman, hitching a ride to a bar, and “Colfax Ave.” is a similar drinking tale of small town entrapment. Small towns make appearances throughout, through imagery of alleyways, liquor stores, dive bars and back roads of Colorado. This setting is the real main character and common thread through these songs, playing a distinct and highly specific role that grounds the record. The way Vlautin describes the place and its people, both seemingly forgotten by time, is breathtaking. That western grit shows itself through the lush instrumentals, too.
“The Oil Rigs at Night” is another striking, atmospheric tune that tells the sad story of lost love through the distinctive small town imagery. It’s a little bit bluesy, and a lot melancholy. Even though the scenery is specific, the characters in Colfax are so transcendent, that they could belong anywhere in the USA. These are mundane, no-frills tales of heartbreak, shitty bosses, and complex communities that resonate with the classic idea of the American dream. Vlautin’s songs beg the question, when a place is all you’ve got, and that place is left behind, will you be left behind, too?
One oddball standout is the Randy Newman cover “Sandman’s Coming”, a haunting, slow lullaby that is nightmarish and intense. Its pretty piano contradicts its ominous tone, and there are no other tracks like it on the whole record. It makes for an interesting addition to this collection, and somehow it convinces us that it fits right in.
Colfax isn’t just a fascinating folk record; it’s a literary masterpiece set to music. And the best part about it is, without a doubt, the sliver of optimism that resounds in “82nd St.”. A song about holding out hope for change, it echoes the dreams for a better life ahead, reveling in something as simple as a new day. With swaying harmonies, Conlee-Drizos’ hypnotic keys, and Vlautin’s vivid descriptions of the sun coming up over this neglected town, there’s a hint of something bigger at work. And we can only hope that the characters in these songs find what it is they’re looking for.
