Comprised of Carrie Shepard and Lawrence Daversa, Detroit-based duo The Whiskey Charmers have a different way of doing things to most other young country bands in 2015, not least because they’re more concerned with evoking the past rather than the future. Awash with retro reverb, winding electric guitar lines and grounded in drone acoustic guitar and acoustic percussion, the mix of 1960s and 1970s countrypolitan and outlaw country, leaning into modern Americana, makes their self-titled debut album a great listen. Released in March and self-produced, Carrie wrote every track (save ‘C Blues’, which the pair wrote together), and the ethereal, haunting gravitas of her voice sets the nine tracks alight.
Still, Lawrence’s contributions are not to be side-lined, as his guitar work is dramatic, emotive, technically proficient and the perfect accompaniment to Carrie’s role as lead vocalist. The instrumentation is often more than a base layer, filling the senses with illustrious vintage soundscapes that recall dark, smokey bars and the endless expanse of the South Western states, Carrie’s voice low, rich and sultry. Dripping in melancholy, the affairs of the heart, wanderlust and the classic honky-tonk spirit, it becomes quickly apparent that their given name is perhaps the most perfect they could have coined. The activity of drinking whiskey to numb the pain seems to be one that quietly (and not-so-quietly) accompanies this record, while every offering is equally charming, helped in part by Carrie’s beautiful vocals and deft songcraft.
If you were wondering where the roots and grit of country music had gone, you’ll find it in this album. There is a fulfilling darkness and aching quality about this record that falls in line with the genre at its best, even if they refer to themselves as ‘Ameripolitan’ (which, by the way, is also perfectly accurate).
Originally posted here.
