Bill Scorzari Through These Waves
“One of the greatest songwriters I’ve never heard.” Jonah Tolchin, Through These Waves’ producer
“I enjoyed playing on Bill Scorzari’s record…Boy, did it turn out fine—thoughtful, soulful songs, with—by God—real music to back them up. Top notch.” Will Kimbrough, musician and current Fervor Coulee man-crush
“He looks like Steve Earle would if he hadn’t taken care of himself.” Albertan wit
In 2014, New York’s Bill Scorzari released his debut album, Just the Same.
Don’t feel bad—I didn’t hear it either. Upon receiving Through These Waves, his follow-up release, I’ve changed that, of course. Until you can purchase it, feel free to stream Just the Same at Scorzari’s website. It is a good listen, and reveals the promise that first albums often do.
But, go buy Through These Waves right now. Because while the sophomore album is supposed to be weaker than the one the artist had a lifetime to create, this one isn’t. It is February 19th as I write this review, and I am betting that when December 15th comes along and I am paring down my list of favourite roots albums of 2017 Through These Waves will be there. And it isn’t going to be whittled off the list.
Scorzari has been compared to everyone from Tom Waits, Leonard Cohen, Bruce Springsteen, and Blind Willie McTell. Hey, don’t shoot me—I didn’t fall back on those clichés. [Not that I don’t fall back on clichés. Just not those particular ones. Today.] Here is where I am going: Bill Scorzari lives where the Blues meets Texas Sam Baker.
Alberta readers might understand that sentence. I hope others do as well, ’cause that is about as good as I get.
Whereas on Just the Same Scorzari did sound like he was trying to find his inner Waits, especially on songs such as “Baby’s Got a New Blue Dress,” and his Magic-era Springsteen on “It Is Hard to Know,” with Through These Waves Scorzari has found himself.
Scorzari sings, but his version of singing is more of the spoken poetry with a pulsating vibration timbre that Sam Baker has perfected over the course of four albums and innumerable gigs. He connects with listeners by creating soundscapes that reveal descriptions of mood and atmosphere more than character. You listen and think, Yes—I’ve felt that: why didn’t I understand?
Scorzari and producer Jonah Tolchin gathered some of the finest available talents to record to tape at the Bomb Shelter in East Nashville. Will Kimbrough plays mandolin and piano, while Jon Estes contributes both bass and acoustic guitar as well as organ and even a bit of percussion. Joachim Cooder is the featured drummer and Chris Scruggs handles the steel guitar. Additional familiar names including Brent Burke (Dobro,) Laur Joamets (guitars,) Matt Murphy (bass,) and Kyle Tuttle (banjo) appear.
Singing with Scorzari on particular tracks are Kim Richey (on “Holy Man”) and Annie Johnon (on “More of Your Love”) as well as Cindy Walker and Marie Lewey singing beautiful backing on “I Can Carry This” and “Hound Dog Diggin’,” lending some lightness to Scarzari’s dark places.
“I got no answers to my questions why,” he declares in “Holy Man.” As Joamets let loose with a string of slide guitar notes, Scorzari comes back to the realization that one doesn’t need answers, one just needs to question. Supported by Richey, this track features Scorzari’s most complete vocal performance (although, not my favourite which come next.)
Scorzari captures a moment in time to craft a portraits of life that can be aching. In “She Don’t Care About Auld Lang Syne” a woman “won’t slow down” as she leaves. Gentle, sparse guitar notes provide the meditative atmosphere, with just a taste of Eamon McLoughlin’s fiddle seasoning the desperate atmosphere. Scorzari mourns her loss—or perhaps, the idea of her being gone—using disjointed phrases to bring sense to the revealed lack of faith. A similar approach is taken on the album’s penultimate number, “It’s Time.”
“Shelter From the Wind,” “A Dream of You,” and “For When I Didn’t See” are songs that would fit into more challenging Americana playlists, and I’m talking to y’all at WDVX—if you aren’t giving Scorzari some love, I think you should be.
Through These Waves keeps the listener keen right though to its concluding songs—no filler apparent. A joker among aces laments his lot in “Loser At Heart,” while “I Can Carry This” hints that we can’t do it in isolation. In closing with “Riptide,” another meditative composition, Scorzari pulls it all together—through these waves, as we are searching for rescue and as we are tested, if we keep our wits about us and trust in others, we just might survive.
A complete album, one that is going to go on the shelf next to classics such as Lucinda Williams, Mercy, and Cannons in the Rain.