Josh Rouse surprised me. Damn him and damn me. When I get surprised by a musical artist, I hold their music in my mind and get a bit fanatical: often buying their complete catalogue, listening to their songs incessantly, sharing my enthusiasm of the music with friends.
One of my favorite resources for discovering artists is the website allmusic.com. The site reviews almost every new CD that is released. On February 22, 2005, I checked the site and was surprised. Dammit.
Josh’s CD “Nashville” had been released. And it had garnered a four and ½ star review (out of a possible five stars). AND with its designated bold-gray “check,” the CD had been selected as his best release (out of a then-total five solo releases). I had noticed that a couple of my friends whose musical taste I respected had Josh’s previous CD “1972” in their collection, but I hadn’t heard that CD.
The “Nashville” title threw me off at first. Though I had in my youth, I was not listening to much mainstream country music at that time. But the review on allmusic included phrases like “sunny melodies” and “bouncy and dreamy,” so I was sure that the CD was Pop (my favorite genre). In addition to reviews, the site offers song samples. I listened to the first song sample for “It’s the Nighttime.” With its steady rhythm, simple yet rich arrangement, and Josh’s slightly raspy tenor, I liked the song immediately. Then just a little way into the song sample, I heard steel guitar. The sound was a weakness for me, rooted in my listening to a lot of 70s California rock like the Eagles, Jackson Browne and Linda Ronstadt. I might have listened to other song samples at that time, but the review and that one song sample could have been enough support for me to buy the CD.
When I first played the CD, I was immediately captivated. “It’s the Nighttime” began with a bit of studio feedback , a background count-in of “2..,3..,4…,” then a strummed acoustic guitar without accompaniment until the steel guitar soon joined in. The song had all the right elements for me: an easy shuffle tempo, great harmony vocals, clever lyrics.
“Winter in the Hamptons” followed; an upbeat pop number with a driving yet lithe tempo complete with “Ba-da-da, Ba-ba” singing, hand claps and bright background vocals.
And then the CD utterly hooked me. The sounds of sweet strings entered, swelling slightly, fading and then expanding again. The strings were accompanied by disconnected but unified individual piano notes falling down the scale. The strings and piano disappeared to feature Josh’s acoustic guitar and clear voice for the first verse of “Streetlights.” The major and minor key shifts grounded the wistful ballad: piano and strings working themselves in and out, bass guitar and drums accenting. The song that had started so simply became full and breathtaking, returning at its closing stages to the easy sway of the beginning.
While the first three songs pulled me in, the remainder of the CD kept me snared: the lazy feel of “Saturday,” the heartbreaking piano prayer of “Sad Eyes,” the coffee-house philosophy of “Life.” In the span of 40 minutes, Josh Rouse ran the gamut from capriciousness to despair to encouragement.
After that first experience with Josh Rouse, I did get a bit fanatical. I purchased most of his catalogue, I listened to his songs incessantly, and I shared my enthusiasm for his music with my friends. He continues to surprise me. But that’s all right; I enjoy surprises.
