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Vermonter Caitlin Canty finds Nashville to her liking on her fourth release, a mostly dark, brooding but ultimately hopeful work, Motel Bouquet. Produced by Punch Brother banjoist Noam Pikelny, who in return recruited some of Nashville’s best session players, this could be Canty’s breakthrough. Like her previous work, it’s a blend of folk, dark blues, and dreamy country with her pristine, twilight-like vocals consistently at the fore. While her sound varies only slightly from her last album, the acclaimed Reckless Skyline, this one has more focus borne from personal experience. The overall effect is akin to aslowly building storm that never reaches full strength, leaving enough damage in its wake but makes recovery manageable.
These ten originals were written mostly on the move, whether that be planes, motels, backstage, or countless hours in the van. Canty hails from a small rural Vermont town but spent considerable time in New York playing in bands and becoming a songwriter. She uprooted to Nashville recently and that, too, explains the slight shifts in the sound. Thematically though, it’s about loss, falling in love, and getting a new start.
The songs, some of which have been simmering for a few years now, were recorded live in a concentrated three days with Stuart Duncan on fiddle, Paul Kowert on bass, Jerry Roe on drums, Russ Pahl on pedal steel and Pikelny playing electric guitar and banjo. With very few takes and no overdubs, Aoife O’Donovan added harmonies and Gabe Witcher played fiddle on a few tunes. Canty immediately gained comfort with this group, some of whom had been playing together for years. The results yielded a natural, relaxed intensity to the songs which are lyrically simple and image-based, as if asking the listener to fill in the narrative.
Motel Bouquet begins with the single, “Take Me For A Ride,” about a person or a vice that you’re trying to quit but keep circling back to. “River Alone” typifies the feel of the record with these lyrics: “Driving rain at night holds its breath under bridges/The road hisses as he slows to leave the highway/Streetlights shine on power lines/Rain hangs like diamonds/A necklace for a heavy sky on a windless night.” Her tune, “Scattershot” takes an even more menacing view of the natural world. Perhaps it stems from the Cumberland River flood in Nashville last year. “First it’s filling up the wells/And it’s rolling through the streets of this town/Over the steps of the motel/Lightning tore the sky from the clouds/Now it’s rising to the rafters/Climbing up the steeple/Ringing all the bells/Ringing all the bells.”
There’s a sparseness which somehow becomes arresting in the banjo-driven “Who” and there are constant refrains of lost love in “Onto You,” “Basil Gone to Blossom,” “and the resigning bleakness and bitterly symbolic hope in “Motel.” Cinder Blocks” becomes an analogy for building anew independently with strong resolve.
Canty’s reputation will undoubtedly gather more momentum with this release. On the surface she sings so sweetly, that her dark imagery belies her innocent demeanor. That juxtaposition is the essence of her appeal.
