Call it a question of what lens you use to view the thing. Folk audiences, real folk devotees, will embrace and champion the debut LP from Rachel Sumner and Traveling Light. After all, it’s an emotive and well-crafted collection of folksy gems, ripe with bright acoustic guitar strumming, Kat Wallace’s mellifluous fiddling, and angelic vocals from the former Twisted Pine alumnus. Then again, more mainstream audiences, the consumers of “popular music,” will not take the time necessary to find Sumner’s charms. After all, the record lacks the tension of the sociopolitical moment, and the nine-track LP might benefit from a heavier bottom end, and more aggressive editing, particularly in how it sequences Sumner’s tales of love and longing. So, is the eponymous debut a great LP or something that needed just a little more time to cook? Again, depends on where you stand.
Many people will – or should – check out Sumner’s latest for her band’s take on Gillian Welch’s “Strangers Again.” “Hello, stranger, lover, friend/ Hello, angel on the mend,” Sumner sings to open the song, over tides of fiddle and pedal steel. “There’s a side of you/ That I never knew/ As you shed another skin/ We’re strangers again.” There are few places on the new record where Sumner’s voice is as confident or effective, and the backing from a slightly buried-in-the-mix acoustic guitar is spot-on good. The good news for those keeping track: Sumner actually revisits a handful of other people’s songs on the LP. She works wonders with “If You Love Me,” which is based on a Johnny Cash poem, making the carefully picked acoustic and swelling pedal steel overflow with heartache. Sumner’s take on Joanna Newsom’s “Colleen” is a daring bit of standing on the shoulders of giants, and the hand-clap-driven bridge borders on the celebratory, a real success.
What to make of the original material? It’s more than just decent, and Sumner clearly has an older, wiser musician’s ability to pen insightful, understated lyrics and sparkling melodies. “Hunting Doves,” the album’s opener, gathers steam as it unfolds and ends in an interesting place, given its fragile, tentative beginnings. “Easton,” another great song, starts with the sound of pitch-perfect acoustic guitar coming from someone’s spring porch. “The Arms of Your Mother” is a beautiful ode to Sumner’s matriarch.
Elsewhere, the songs lack shine but not inspiration. Sumner switches to banjo for the lead on “Come Along, Rowan,” and, while there are moments where the Old Time references mesh and push the song beyond previous limits, it, elsewhere, is a little cluttered. “Unrecorded Night,” which features some oddly pointy lyrics, hints at the acoustic shuffle of flamenco but never fully embraces it, much to the detriment of a song that packs lots of emotion but lacks backbone.
Then, again, there’s always “Strangers Again.” Welch sort of arbitrarily tossed out the song, including on a “lost songs” collection, but Sumner gives it the deluxe treatment it’s due. “Hello, rain man in the mirror/ Now I see you’ve noticed all these tears,” Sumner coos. “Wе can start anew/ If you’re willing/ To smile and prеtend/ We’re strangers again.” Riveting stuff.
So, you want a verdict? Tough to say. The songwriting throughout the Boston outfit’s debut is solid, airtight as a jar left for winter. And Sumner, an essential part of why Twisted Pine had such a bright future in the first place, shines here. But the accessibility of the forms and formulas herein causes gaps in the ability to rave about the new LP. For audiences who respect, celebrate and pay homage to familiar tropes – insert a Dylan “Judas!” reference or two here – this is a tremendous accomplishment. I just don’t know if Sumner can cut through the cultural static to use these songs to reach audiences beyond that insular little circle. Regardless of where it goes, though, it’s a fine ride. — Justin Vellucci, Spectrum Culture, Sept. 6, 2022
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