[rating=9.00]
The Delines have an irresistible, compelling sound, due to the weary, soulful vocals of Amy Boone and guitarist/songwriter Willy Vlautin’s desperate noir arrangements centered on his vivid, mostly down and out characters. It may sound like Dusty Springfield in Memphis at 3 AM or an exhausted Rickie Lee Jones finishing a set on fumes. Yet, the Delines with The Imperial bring subtle power in these spare arrangements that draw the listener in immediately and have a riveting effect.
The Imperial is the result of endless rehearsals and touring for a band that once thought they’d never get a chance to record again. Aside from some occasional romanticism, there are no real hints of triumph or allusion to the personal tragedy in the album itself but theirs is a story of redemption. They were on a rapid trajectory after the release of their acclaimed 2014 Colfax, only to have Amy Boone accidentally hit by a car, resulting in two broken legs, and three years of subsequent treatment and rehab. A major element in sustaining hope was knowing that most of this, their second album, had already been recorded, together with the will to see it finally issued.
Almost three years later, we now are hearing Boone sing these ten songs penned by Vlautin, who is also the lead singer and songwriter for Richmond Fontaine and a novelist who has had two of his books transformed into films. Vlautin was first impressed by Boone’s unique vocal style during a tour Richmond Fontaine did with Damnations, TX, the band Amy had formed with her sister, Deborah Kelly. Eventually, Deborah sang on the Richmond Fontaine album The High Country but backed out of touring when she became pregnant. Amy stepped in. Vlautin says, “On the road, I’d listen to her warm up and I started dreaming about being in a band where she sang all the time. That’s how the Delines started – with me wanting to hide in the back and listen to Amy sing.”
Vlautin spent the next year writing these ten songs, convinced Amy to join the band and added his drummer from Richmond Fontaine, Sean Oldham. Portland’s Freddy Trujillo joined as bassist and The Decemberists’ Jenny Conlee came aboard for a short stint on keyboards before relinquishing those duties to multi-instrumentalist Cory Gray who also plays the trumpet. Tucker Jackson adds atmospheric pedal steel with horns and strings further coloring the arrangements for their late night country-soul sound.
The album unfolds cinematically as Vlautin weaves his stories of heartbreak, desolation, hope and resilience. “Holly the Hustle,” for example, has a girl who grows up to join the low life. The horn-infused “Where Are You Sonny?” has a woman searching for her missing boyfriend. The title track is about a long-split couple who meet again years later, following his prison release. Here’s a peek at some of Vlautin’s lines from the weeping resignation in “He Don’t Burn For Me” – “All these couples who fall apart/Like deserted cars alongside the road/I’ve always passed them heartbroken/Thought if I looked too long/I’d be the one left alone.” Similarly, in the closer, “Waiting on the Blue” we hear Boone singing – “Garbage trucks will start banging/Delivery trucks too/They’ll be my saviors/From thinking about you/I know the night will end/I just get so tired.” The essential vibe of the album unfolds that way. It’s bleak, mysterious, and somehow, stunningly beautiful.
Yes, we’re barely into 2019 and already likely have a candidate for one of this year’s strongest albums.
Photo by Jason Quiqley
