J. Tillman
Year in the Kingdom
Rating: 2.5/5.0
Label: Bella Union
Along the dusty roads of Americana, there are places where genres bleed together- where country, folk and rock blur. While Fleet Foxes, of whom J. Tillman is a member, only sometimes occupies one of those places, Tillman himself surely does. It’s partly a product of his smoky voice, breathy and lush with just a touch of twang. And underneath that sensitive voice is a strong foundation; it’s the kind of dish country crooners serve, just with a different delivery. On his fifth full-length, Tillman doesn’t go for any surprises, sticking to what he does best, and ultimately, the results are only pleasant when he could have accomplished something more had he created Year in the Kingdom with a much grander scope and a more dynamic voice.
Fortunately for Tillman, his music doesn’t necessarily need to be overly ambitious or complicated by elaborate intentions. Maybe trying something new and daring could have yielded impressive results, but Year in the Kingdom is neatly arranged with beautiful musical thoughts packaged in equally beautiful presentations. Opener “Year in the Kingdom” does Nick Drake justice with softly strummed acoustic guitar; “Crosswinds” is similarly effective with a less minimalist palate, working in a haunting choir of nature sounds, soft voices, and well-placed moments of silence; “Though I Have Wronged You” shuffles along at just the right mid-album tempo, Tillman’s vocals raised to some sort of sonic heaven that’s hard not to visualize. These songs aren’t overwrought or terribly adventurous, and the album matches, by playing short and sweet.
But Tillman’s throaty croon – or more importantly his stylistic use of it – may be what prevents those impressive moments on Kingdom from occurring throughout the entire album instead of just peppering it. For an artist who’s made the most of relative obscurity with a solid body of solo work and joined ranks in a continuously improving full-band endeavor, it’s about time for Tillman to speak up. He’s certainly earned it. Yet he sings most of Kingdom in a shockingly hushed manner, not quite mumbling but whispering out those notes in a way that’s surprisingly close. Sure, he’s probably torn between a desire to sound sensitive and compelling and the need to sound skilled and assertive. Folk and alt-country do have a way of rewarding those who sound amateur, or carry an air of fledgling charm and naiveté. But while Tillman strums softly and dares not raise his voice, my mind wanders to works by other artists that are more memorable due to vocal quirks, stylistic risks or penchants for volume. Bar-swoon brashness helps distinguish Damien Jurado while playful spitefulness does the same for Sufjan Stevens (whose chops aren’t flawless but are so quirky he’s hard to forget); Haley Bonar sings delicately some of the time, balancing with a broad range and personal stories; even Deer Tick does an alt-country–folk–rock hybrid that’s enjoyable, and that band seems to have less to say than Tillman’s heady lyrics do.
It would be easy just to say Year in the Kingdom is downright pretty, or that it’s an elegantly composed vessel for expertly-written lyrics. Both of those statements are only often true, making the album worthwhile for Tillman’s fans or those in search of some good background music. But Kingdom is also kind of boring, and it’s hard to get to the meat of lines like “There is no good in me / I possess a taste for blood” when those are the only two listeners pick out or – more importantly – pay any attention. For a folk album that lets silence linger and philosophical lyrics shoulder the weight of each track’s essence, that flaw is a particularly tragic one.
by Michael Merline
