I have to admit, I underestimated Frankie Ballard. In 2013, each time a new artist hit radio it was for their copycat bro-country credentials, with nothing worthy of note and some that I actively hated. Frankie got lumped in with them in my mind before I’d even heard him, which was a mistake, because the more I listened to lead single ‘Helluva Life’, the more its slight twist on the small town paradise staple caught my attention and whetted my appetite for more. Yet when it came to listening to his sophomore album, ‘Sunshine & Whiskey’, I was still blown over because it wasn’t just a case of fluke.
It’s true that Frankie’s music is largely radio-friendly and draws upon conventional topics and song styles and structures, but he seems to have a knack for gently twisting them in a way that not only places his own personal stamp on them, but makes them stand out from the pack with a fun, youthful creativity and a substantial helping of grit. From commercial rocky opener ‘Young & Crazy’, which arguably successfully justifies young, reckless and carefree behavior by pointing out the lessons learned and the wisdom gained from such life experiences, it is clear Frankie wants to have a good time while he makes a few subtle observations. ‘It Don’t Take Much’ shares some of that wisdom by reminding listeners through an illustrious array of metaphors that everything starts small and it doesn’t take a lot to change everything, against a musically tense backdrop, characterized by a mandolin lead and a dirty guitar rock base, the prominence of each alternating constantly in the mix throughout the song. The subtle tension created from the sweetness of the mandolin and the harsher edge of the guitars is one that is simply not considered by his contemporaries when making production decisions. This then underpins a catchy melody and some great riffs, resulting a winning formula which Frankie continues to excel at throughout the record.
Another example is ‘Sober Me Up’, a country rock ballad that directly opposes the typical “drunk on love” song, opting for more of a redemptive, demon-filled Eric Church angle, asking a woman to settle him down and keep him grounded after getting carried away living his dreams. It seems that with every song Frankie hints at the bro-country or the pop country then never goes there, delighting at surprising listeners who crave the more interesting while still remaining commercially viable in this trend-orientated industry. There’s ‘Drinky Drink’, on the surface a juvenile “let’s get drunk” track that reveals layers of twang and a fun, live singalong nature (the crowd effect on the chorus helps), as well as labelling alcohol as a heartbreak healer to a catchy melody and banjo combination. ‘Sunshine & Whiskey’ also has this effect, an twangy electro-aided R&B teen love song that has a sense of humor, deciding to pull over and park because “don’t wanna get a DWK, driving while kissing, they’ll put you away”, perhaps a less-than-subtle dig at the many songs celebrating drinking, driving, and who knows what other intimate happenings at the same time. As it develops too, the R&B sound evolves into an edgier Jack Johnson style, laid back with a vocal delivery so cool it could maintain the temperature of one of those ice cold beers that isn’t present in the song.
Come to think of it, there’s really no laundry list clichés on this album. The most surprising instance where the lack of them is glaringly obvious is on ‘I’m Thinking Country’. Upon the title alone one might assume it’s a bro-country anthem, but preferring the Jake Owen ‘Days of Gold’ style fast banjo and added rocky guitars, all of its country references are much more authentic and less contrived than its more fad-like cousin. The sheer fact that with all of this stuff around selling by the truckload (ha) and how easy it is to slip into countryisms when celebrating a rural lifestyle, it appears that Frankie has deliberately avoided it, showing that he has more artistic control than many of his peers. The song also adds to its own credibility by casually slipping into a bluegrass refrain twice during the extended outro, and it’s clear that he has many influences that don’t just involve modern country and modern rock. ‘Don’t You Wanna Fall’, for example, begins with a beautiful dobro line and calls upon the high lonesome sounds of a bluegrass ballad to underpin soft rock instrumentation on the chorus (and an awesome chorused bluesy guitar solo), creating a beautiful atmosphere and a lovely, vulnerable side to Frankie. The backing harmonies also sound remarkably like Alison Krauss (apparently it’s Cass Lawson), making it all the more amazing. Lyrically it also twists the conventional, using an unusual approach to depicting a female as an angel and a male as flawed, asking her to fall down to him. Written down like that it sounds cheesy and gender-stereotyped, but upon listening it just works, particularly with the music being so understatedly genuine.
Frankie also relies on heartbreak and storytelling to narrate this album. ‘Tip Jar’ and ‘Tell Me You Get Lonely’ combine elements of the traditional with a modern base and have a strong lyric set that really show off his surprisingly good natural vocal ability, country twang with the grit of a seasoned rock singer (can anybody said hella sexy?). But it’s the closer, ‘Don’t Tell Mama I Was Drinking’ which also showcases itself as a dark horse. Shrouded in trad. country stylings, it tells the story of a man who dies drunk driving, but not before asking Frankie not to tell his mama he was drinking, because he’s worried about the heartbreak she will experience. Touching upon the sheer idea that that would be what the man was thinking mere moments before his tragic death, we see further depth from Frankie, delving into both the dark and the thought-provoking.
Frankie Ballard has a lot of things going for him. Not only does he have a great voice, a great look, some catchy, fun yet musically creative tracks and lyrics that just avoid the conventional and are keen to surprise, but I get the distinct impression we are merely scratching the surface with him. I am genuinely excited to hear what he will produce over the next few years, and also enjoying the more traditional country acoustic versions of ‘Helluva Life’, ‘Sunshine & Whiskey’ and ‘Drinky Drink’ that finish off the record. Dude got my money (that’s some feat), and well deserved too.
