John Shipe- Water This Dark review

John Shipe Water This Dark JohnShipeMusic.com

John Shipe has a way with lyric and melody, one that places him within the highest class of singer-songwriter, traveling Americana troubadours.

From the one-sheet: Americana songwriter John Shipe’s work exhibits seasoned self-reliance, as his sustained sobriety has become personal convention over the past several years. He’s emerged fully lucid and holding mature empathy after firmly shedding the constrictive skin of a less-than-sober past.

When I review an album, I typically set aside the artist’s sexuality, gender, addictions, race, and other factors unless they are directly related to the art. It is apparent that Shipe’s previous challenges and welcomed sobriety have been vital in shaping the man. However, the realities he constructs in his songs transcend his own circumstance: he lays bare the challenges he creates for his character creations, guiding and documenting their journeys toward—often—peace, acceptance, and honest emotion.

The Beast is Back (2020) was my introduction to Shipe, and with Water This Dark the veteran of the pacific northwest’s music scene politely reminds us of his significant talents, vocally and as a songwriter. He begins the album asking, “What do I owe the sky for making me feel so small?” and across the nine songs wrestles to make sense of nature, human inconsistencies, faith, and relationships.

Shipe’s observations are consistently mindful of his (and our) need to make sense of surroundings and forces frequently beyond our control. Still, his positive introspections establish an atmosphere of acceptance.

“You’re just starting over and over again,” he observes within “Starting Over and Over Again (Treadmill Part II,)” before sagely and matter-of-factly realizing, “Wherever you go, you’re stuck with you.” Other lessons take longer to discover, as in “By Now” and “Gold into Yarn.” “Water this Dark” is bluesy and dark: is this how it ends?

The dream-infused “The Darkness I’ve Been Waiting For” rattles collective cages: where does the reality of others begin and where do our dreams begin? Shipe offers a sense of belonging and faith as we each stumble toward our natural conclusion:

“Here comes the darkness I’ve been waiting for all evening, the shadows of my life disappear.
The only sound in the distance I hear,
salvation train coming to carry me home.”

Returning alongside Shipe is producer Tyler Fortier (who again plays guitars, keyboards, and percussion while also singing), as well as select players and vocalists from last time out. Mike Walker (organ and piano), Bryan Daste (pedal steel), and Erin Flood Fortier (vocals) work with Lilli Worona (violin and vocals), Nate Barnes (drums), Sam Howard (bass), and Philippe Bronchtein (lap steel, organ, and piano). Shipe sings the leads, naturally, and plays guitars and piano.

John Shipe, like Grover Anderson, John Wort Hannam, and Kim Beggs, is an artist you owe yourself to discover. You are unlikely to be disappointed.

Key songs: “What Do I Owe?” “Water This Dark” and “By Now.”