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Genre:
Country
Release Date: 11/06/2007
Little Big Town scored big with 2005's
The Road to Here, their second album -- even if it took until late 2006 for that to finally happen. The quartet that includes
Karen Fairchild,
Kimberly Roads Schlapman,
Jimi Westbrook, and
Phillip Sweet had been out there like road dogs for years and saw their initial self-titled recording gain some critical notice but not much in terms of sales. The band's seamless melding of contemporary rootsy country and the vocal harmonies of
Fleetwood Mac set it apart from the new-crop masses. Through endless touring, regular rotation on
CMT and
GAC, and the grudging eventual recognition given by the accountants who serve as programmers at country radio,
Little Big Town broke through to contemporary country fans (and if there is a more devoted, less finicky brand of music fan out there, good luck finding them) and scored a win as Best New Group or Duo at the 2007
CMAs.
A Place to Land, despite being a third album, is the place to show that
The Road to Here was no fluke. It wasn't. Musically, lyrically, and production-wise,
A Place to Land is superior to its predecessor. Perhaps the real secret to the success of this singing and songwriting quartet is its secret weapon in behind-the-boards fifth member
Wayne Kirkpatrick.
Kirkpatrick is the band's producer and songwriting partner. While
LBT co-produced the set with him, they co-wrote ten of the 12 tunes on the set with him as well. He's chief guitar picker, and plays just about anything with strings as well as the clavinet and B-3. If the sound on
The Road to Here was reminiscent of
Fleetwood Mac's glory years in the 1970s -- particularly due to the songwriting of
Lindsey Buckingham --
A Place to Land drinks deeply from the well of the entire Southern California scene in the mid- to late '70s. It's not like they simply regurgitate or imitate it, either.
Little Big Town's sound is rooted deeply in traditional, organic country music. They haven't tried to become Southern rock lite imitators, as have so many of their peers.
Kirkpatrick gets this and brings to the table a seamless, very natural production style instead of the sterile compression that saturates so much of what is contemporary country and makes it sound like sterile stadium rock. Here,
Little Big Town's songs meld seamlessly with the vocal harmonies of not only
Fleetwood Mac, but also the
Crosby, Stills & Nash of
"Suite: Judy Blue Eyes" and the earliest records of
the Eagles.
While the album's opener,
"Fine Line," literally rings with
Buckingham's chord progressions, choruses, and arranged vocal harmonies and nuances from
"Go Your Own Way," it's open rock & roll territory with one exception: the verse structure has enough hard country in it -- with that blend of four voices and killer lyrics -- that it's undoubtedly
LBT. They can trademark their own brand of the "Southern" in the Cali folk, pop, and rock brew from decades past. They distinguish themselves a bit more on the album's first single,
"I'm with the Band," which has enough road weariness in it to match the
CSN travelogue, but the beautiful pace -- with a bluegrass line drop here, a Gretsch guitar lick there, and the loping chorus phrasing -- makes it one of the great road songs of the decade thus far. When the B-3, electric guitars, and big cracking drums come flowing in, the Dobro, banjos, and mandolin are woven right into the fabric. It feels natural and airy, and it packs a wallop.
The Eagles get sound-checked in
"That's Where I'll Be"'s chord structure (which was based on their own take on country music anyway), but the harmonies here could only be better if
Bernie Leadon and
Timothy B. Schmit joined them for six-part instead of four-part harmony. The acoustic guitars rise and fall, keeping a steady rhythmic chatter that serves as a painterly backdrop for those gorgeous voices. There is a loneliness and conviction in this song that doesn't feel presold or prepackaged, with a wide-open sound that evokes a predawn landscape and the intimacy of love being declared for the first time. This band has another side as well, and it's brought out in spades with the spooky
"Evangeline," a harrowing song about emotional abuse: "You don't have to be kicked to be bruised/And you don't have to be hit to be abused...." It's one woman talking to another, exhorting her to see what's happening to her with her belief that she can be saved by her own love when it's being hammered into submission by a sick male who thrives on his meanness. With its high lonesome guitars, a spidery Dobro, and muffled floor tom and snare, it carries so much weight and is so utterly out of the normal realm of country's usual serious topics (which need to reflect a "hearth, home, country, and church" ethos) that it is as powerful in its way as
Gretchen Wilson's
"Independence Day."
There is one weak tune here, one that doesn't fit the strong, literate, yet utterly enjoyable mix assembled here: the boilerplate cliché of
Jon Randall's
"Firebird Fly." It's the only concession to the current formula that Music City productions are steeped in. Lyrically, it's simply stupid; musically, it's got that big post-
Skynyrd riffing that only
Wilson can really pull off on her records with any real authority. That said,
Kirkpatrick's mix blows away the competition, though -- because these instruments sound live, like they're in the room with you, and then there are those harmonies, but they mar what might have been perfect. Oh well -- small complaint. His other contribution,
"Lonely Enough," is up to his usual high standard, especially clothed in
Kirkpatrick and
LBT's all-acoustic arrangement. Those who can't get enough of truly great love songs will find
"To Know Love" to be one of those songs that will be played at weddings for decades. It's as profound in its poetry and elegantly yet simply presented as to be direct, in a one-on-one manner, and its sparse arrangement leaves room for those voices to entwine as only they can.
"Novocaine," with its tough bluesed-out Dobro opening that explodes into a hand-clapping rocker, is a party song with teeth. The set goes out with bang on
"Fury." There are electric guitars and a rubbery bassline that could have come from the knottier moments on
Hotel California. It's a curious choice for a closer but it works, since it doesn't sound like anything else here. It's another of
LBT's cheatin' songs (like
"Gone" from
The Road to Here). Somebody in this band must have been wronged deeply, because these always come from the female side of the fence and carry a snarl and righteous anger that is undiluted. It does have a beautifully ethereal bridge that seems out of place at first, but it lends a kind of release before the tension explodes again. For all of
LBT's appropriation of signature sounds from Southern Cal in the '70s, their manner of employing them is not only highly original, it's trademark. There isn't another act out there on the road or in a studio today that sounds remotely like them or even could -- simply put, these four singer/songwriters, with
Kirkpatrick backing their playing and leading the band, are in a league of their own.
~Thom Jurek, All Music Guide
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