Sonya Cotton
Red River
Rating: 4.0/5.0
Label: Self-Released
Sonya Cotton's voice is so rich that it can swing high and low, easily covering several octaves, never sounding thin or tinny. I would love to hear this instrument applied to a few songs with traditional song structures--songs with a verse, a chorus and then a bridge. Her songs, though, are more like folktales--long and windy, full of vivid woodsy imagery, rife with wolves, bears and mythic lands by the sea. There is nothing wrong with a good folktale, and there is not much wrong with this album, except that it may leave listeners wanting to hear this stunning voice applied to just one or two songs with melodies they can remember and choruses they can sing along to.
Sonya Cotton grew up exploring theater, dance and visual arts, as well as music. She graduated from Vassar College with a degree in studio art before recording her first album, 2005's Baltimore Trees, which comes as no surprise, boasting a strong pull toward visual images. In the past four years, she has traveled the country, living briefly in New York City and Philadelphia, before settling two years ago in San Francisco, where she has embraced and been embraced by a lively musical DIY culture. Sixteen guest musicians appear on Red River, many of them from Bay Area bands, including cellist Joey Chang and drummer Ezra Lipp from Stichcraft, and all of them integrate naturally and easily into the deeply personal, one of a kind story-songs on the album.
This record is so well-produced that listeners will wonder what part strings, horns, backing vocals and Sonya Cotton herself all play in this flowing water music. Still, sophisticated sound isn't the main objective here; this is folk music, with stretches of earnest singing which celebrate the mysterious depths of our identities with the natural world. Individually, her images are striking and her lines evocative; her delivery is earnest; yet the songs twist and turn into unexpected metaphors and emotions, especially those exploring body and soul, self and beloved or human and other animal. In "Bear," she sings "Make a bed/ Make a home/ Make a home of this ground" and "The bear in the shadows/ I can feel him in my heart."
Many of the stories in these songs are hard to follow, partly because of the complexity of the vocal harmonies alongside reeds and fast-picked strings, but also partly because the lyrics themselves are rambling. The songs on Red River are melancholy, dealing with a lot of bones and decaying bodies, though they're often wrapped up in pretty phrases and prettier singing: "Soon our hands will turn to feathers/ And float away," she sings on the title track, and in "Hunters:" "Blue in our bellies/ Blue in our veins/ Oh, we'll unfold like a dream." Even when sections of these songs repeat, they are too twisty to stick in one's mind-- even when heard again and again.
Unlike a lot of folk compositions, Cotton's stories do not feel like clever puzzles on the thin edge between authenticity and mirth, between message and entertainment; despite gaps in literal storytelling, each song is emotionally compelling and feels whole and full of grace. They linger not as commercial songs do, but in the ways of dreams. They are emotionally resonant but sidestep expectations of what songs should be. It is easy to enjoy this album once you let go of wanting the songs to be things you can hold onto--these lovely vines will fall through your fingertips every time. This music can be compared to the Fleet Foxes, in that it presents stark vocal harmonizing and combines elements of traditional folk music (rambling lyrics about nature, acoustic instruments) with elements of prayers and hymns (that choral sound, those layered voices).
Red River deserves high praise because it is music belonging to a stunning, beatific landscape; upon shutting it off, I feel as though I've suddenly woken from a verdant dream. I hope that Sonya Cotton continues to weave fairytales like these, but it might be nice if in the future she also uses her voice to sing the traditionally structured songs that we humans cannot help but favor.
by Eva Gordon
