Caroline Spence is one of those rare breeds of true American songwriter that come along every so often to wow their gasping audiences. Often with little years to show for their immense talent, they craft stories that, whether intentionally or not, seek to change the way we view the world. Often their records open windows into lives and relationships fraught with emotion, conflict and yet a special kind of wonder reserved for those wide-eyed and innocent enough to remain truly fascinated with the world. No doubt the first of many, Caroline Spence’s long-awaited debut album ‘Somehow’ showcases a cacophony of influences, experiences and feelings, all welded together under the inclusive and friendly umbrella of Americana, a tribute to lyrical mastery and the American spirit.
“It’s like somebody else is at the wheel, driving five hundred tons of steel and that’s as half as heavy as my heart,” she muses on atmospheric and lonesome opener ‘Trains Cry’, her voice considerably lighter and more youthful that one expects (she’s 25), even after becoming accustomed to her almost childlike, forthright delivery. It sets the tone for a record that chronicles some pain felt, some lessons learned and some clarity found. For the majority, we feel as if we are being guided gently through a particularly complex relationship or a handful of them, with an independent Caroline directing her thoughts and feelings at lovers quite bluntly on some. “There’s nothing you can do now, there’s nothing you can say… just don’t call,” She asserts on the mandolin-decorated folk rock of ‘Don’t Call’, while the rough country blues of ‘Seeing Other People’ goes into more detail on a relationship that isn’t giving her all she needs. “I never noticed other people, now they’re all that I see, and now I’m wondering if other people should be the ones that are loving me,” Caroline sings, a jazzy lilt to her voice.
She continues the unspoken revelations too on ‘Kissing Ain’t The Same As Talking’, pushing away a lover who is leaving lines deliberately blurry, while ‘Whiskey Watered Down’ begins with the explosive line, “You think you’re a big deal with that guitar in your hand,” before concluding on “your songs all feel like whiskey watered down,” a kiss-off to a heartbreaker who conforms to every imitation and stereotype about the philandering musician. But even her version of a diss track is clever, amusingly tapping into the collective experiences of every women who’s ever dated a musician. And that’s the thing about Caroline; although she’s following in the footsteps of the magnificent American songwriter, she’s doing it on her own terms in her own voice. She can do vulnerable, melancholic and hauntingly lonely, just ask the likes of ‘Hard Headed, Hard Hearted’, ‘Last Call’, and the beautifully nostalgic ‘Hello Tomorrow’. But more often than not she is using her music to elevate herself, using her carefully-penned songs to give her power to change things. Instead of just capturing a single emotion, her lyrics tend to give light to a fluid thought process, decisions made and realizations come to. The title track, drowning in ethereal but angelic harmonies, is one of the key examples of this, a display of the wonderment so many songwriters feel as they stare out into the open world and feel the weight and the lift of the Earth’s soul.
Most of all, the thirteen tracks on ‘Somehow’ feel incredibly honest. While at times they lean toward the poetic, they remain clear and to the point at all times, shrouded in a variety of supportive Americana-grouped arrangements. From the folkier, countrier, rockier or bluesier sides of the ring, she draws fairly and equally from each with the kind of postmodern abandon that is so typical of the genre and especially its Millennial artists. This record is not any one thing. It is many things. It is a diary, it is a letter, it is a testimony, and multiple vignettes of Caroline’s life, puzzle pieces of inspiration fashioned in a style that befits her perfectly, like slipping into a brand new tailored dress. It’s a little rough around the edges, but deliberately so; there’s no need to disguise the imperfections here. So maybe it’s a used dress, beautiful for the wear it has seen. A vintage piece with a story (or two) attached – just like ‘Somehow’.
