“I ain’t the best of believers. Ain’t at the front of a church. I’ve read the words of the teacher. But I still struggle with what it’s all worth,” Dierks Bentley croons on “Here On Earth.” It’s the album’s most poignant and perhaps most personal song, admittedly written by Bentley in the aftermath of his father’s death and the events at Sandy Hook Elementary School. There is nothing about the track that is calculated or predictable — nothing in its sound of somber reflection that reminds you of Nashville’s mellower stadium-touring-artist fare. This, however, is the material that is best suited to the familiar, pleasing tenor of the man behind the microphone. A man who would have you believe that he still has comrades in arms on Music Row for his own personal brand of mainstream country music.
These are new tracks coming from a man who has ventured allover the proverbial Nashville map, and who had the guts to release a bluegrass album (2010’s Up On The Ridge) right in the middle of his even-paced climb to success. In fact, there are critics who might say that Bentley is so country, they might have a hard time believing the tongue-in-cheek humor of “Drunk On A Plane” — about a would-be-groom’s sad solo honeymoon — if he hadn’t had similar tracks under his belt like “So, So Long” and “How Am I Doin’.” Riser is Bentley breaking his own mold, following his own formulaic success, digging a little deeper while still allowing himself to cut loose. Indeed, there is nothing claustrophobic in either the musical arrangements or the vocals on Riser’s twelve tracks; most were recorded outside of professional studios and can give any fan who hasn’t had the pleasure of seeing Bentley live the idea of what his voice might sound like in a smoky bar room.
I personally believe those honeyed vocals shine brightest on the sobering “Damn These Dreams.” “Honey, I know you miss me/I feel it when you kiss me/Trust me when I say every goodbye hurts/Well, damn these dreams/Playing my heart just like a guitar string/Pull me away from you and everything I really need,” he reflects with no more than an acoustic guitar and heartfelt lyrics co-penned by Ross Copperman and Jaren Johnston backing him up. Bentley wisely collaborated with most of Music City’s songwriting royalty for the full album, including Hillary Lindsey, Brett James, Shane McAnally, Gordie Sampson and Cary Barlowe. The end result is that the listener ends up believing the emotions that Bentley pours into his work, even on lighter tracks such as “Back Porch” and “Sounds of Summer.”
It’s no secret that in the wake of the “bro-country” craze, longtime fans of country music have been clamoring for smart, interesting, creative records that don’t all sound the same. Like his label mate Eric Church, Bentley has managed to carve out a niche for himself, and it’s why you relate to him when he reminisces about a fired-up tractor and kids playing in a field as more nostalgic summer memories than drunken tailgates. With Riser, Bentley has delivered a dozen radio-ready tracks (yes, even including the radio-shunned “Bourbon in Kentucky,” beautifully harmonized on with Kacey Musgraves) that neither play it safe nor overwhelm. Rather, Bentley lets his heart do the talking and allows himself to have a conversation with his fans in the form of music.
In the end, you feel as if maybe this more mature version of him is the one you’ve gotten to know best since his 2003 debut. The album’s final offering, “Hurt Somebody,” is as much a confession of weakness for a woman as you’re going to hear any man lay bare, it’s poet delivering an almost self-assured neediness that is as cathartic as it is endearing. Bentley wraps up a package that isn’t polished, but it’s full of an authenticity that should bring him more pride than any chart or sales statistic. Riser more than proves that a little bit of soul-searching can go a long way.
