Stripping things back to get to the heart of the matter works wonders on Andrew Combs’ meditative, melodic and melancholy Sundays, a collection of songs that invites you to sink into yourself while keeping an eye on the world, adding up the external and the internal in search of a solution that includes at least a little grace.
This is the fifth studio album from the singer-songwriter, born and raised in Dallas, Texas, now based in Nashville. Previous attempts to genre-pigeonhole Combs have resulted in a hefty list of suggestions, wrong notes and “not-quite-there’s”, from Country, Roots and Americana to Psych-Country, Indie Rock/Pop, Folk/Alternative Folk, even Prog. All of that variety and versatility will be enriched and/or further complicated by the mostly-excellent Sundays, the title of which reportedly came from Combs and his collaborators heading into the studio every Sunday with the goal of laying down a song he had penned during the week.
Combs’ voice, fairly wide of range, is often pitched in a high register, to great effect. The album’s sonic palette is minimalist and experimental but if the simplicity of the arrangements, mono recording and overall sparseness lend the songs something of a stark sameness, crucial sax and welcome woodwind help highlight details in the on-going landscape. It’s a bittersweet, self-questioning and confessional affair, but never a too-grim listen – light on its feet, philosophical and good company much of the time.
Opener (God)less is the perfect scene-setter and mood definer – voice and almost primitive guitar, bass and drums plus existential musings. Mark Of The Man is a distinctive stand-out while The Ship offers a more traditional folky sound. Rootsy rocker Down Among The Dead sounds like fun and comes to erratic electronic life. The intriguingly-titled Drivel To A Dream burns as it yearns, with a dreamy vibe and dramatic, epic nature, like a KD Lang torch song.
I See Me lopes forward via regular drum beats, resolute in its grasp of the on-going tactics as simplicity continues to pay off. Shall We Go, inspired by Samuel Beckett’s play Waiting For Godot, is another dramatic showcase for Combs’ fine voice. Similarly, Anna Please owes a debt to Ingmar Bergman’s 1972 film, Cries And Whispers.
AN ASIDE: A reviewer once asked if The National do a lot with a little, or a little with a lot? Referring, I think, to the way their grandly-developed, layered sound relies on every element fitting into place, to create the right moods, tones and textures. And the Cincinnati outfit’s Matt Berninger was once quoted as saying: “Art is like, what do you think about when you think? About the things you desire, things you’re worried about losing. It’s about complicated mental questions.” Which is not to directly compare Andrew Combs and his album, Sundays, to The National, but to say that the music somehow reminded me of those ideas, which I believe are worth repeating here.
Sundays, by Andrew Combs, is out on Friday (August 19) via Loose Music