Sublime album from acclaimed songwriter which reaps its own rewards.
Given that Grey DeLisle keeps herself quite busy doing voice animation, it’s always a pleasure when she finds time to record a new album, especially one as rewarding as Don’t Turn Around. It’s a smart, fun, and vibrant record where she effortlessly cruises through several styles, unified by her wonderfully flexible voice and trademark incisiveness about love, loss, and heartbreak. While DeLisle has already proven herself to be a songwriter and vocalist of note, the bar is raised by some fabulous production and arrangements that make every track shine. Original production was handled by the late Andy Paley, and his touch is everywhere, from the soaring, sun-dappled harmonies on Drive Aroundto the big melodic hooks on Disneyland. Marvin Etzioni assumed production duties after Paley’s passing and, to his credit, stayed true to the musical vision that Paley and DeLisle had for the record. And it all works quite wonderfully.
It doesn’t hurt that the album also boasts some impressive songs and playing. Don’t Turn Around sees DeLisle backed by a who’s who of Americana royalty including, in addition to Etzioni and Paley, who play everything from guitar, bass and piano, to the less roots-centric sleigh bells, glockenspiel, harpsichord and even a bell tree, Murry Hammond, Stephen McCarthy, Greg Leisz, Mickey Raphael, and Tammy Rogers. Indeed, the blending of disparate instrumentation works well, though, as evidenced on the upbeat Your Mama Doesn’t Love Me Anymore. Here, the harpsichord and pedal steel sound brilliant together, creating a captivating country-baroque blend. Throughout, DeLisle proves herself to be adept at many different styles, beginning with the timeless honkytonk stylings on the sultry opener, Every Day of the Week Ends in Why. Boasting witty wordplay, the track is as authentic as they come; anchored by weeping pedal steel, chugging electric guitar, and sweet, no-nonsense vocals.
It’s a perfect companion piece to the next number, the Tex-Mex-inspired You’re Driving Me Away,a fun-sounding duet with Dave Alvin, whose deep, rugged voice proves a good foil for DeLisle’s pure and clear vocals. By the third track, it’s clear you are hearing a performer at the top of her game. A perfect piece of country-laced retro-pop, the breezy Drive Around is an album highlight where DeLisle’s voice swells and soars over a bright melody, belying the bittersweet tone of the lyric. It may be a stylistic departure from the opening two tracks, but DeLisle pulls it off perfectly, making it feel right at home with some of the other more country-oriented tracks.
Elsewhere, she displays an innate feel for vintage country weepers with the straight-up honkytonk sound of There’s The Door, while the incessantly catchy jangle rock of Disneyland, with its big-sounding chorus and shimmering guitars, is pure delight. From Disneyland to Dollywood, the shuffling Don’t Break the String features a folky acoustic-guitar pattern and some plaintive vocals by DeLisle as she croons, “If I ever grow up / You’re who I wanna be”. It’s a lovely bit of writing about seeking out and maintaining human connections, and illustrates just how fine a writer she really is.
The sonic surprises continue with the steady, funky groove of Open Mic At The Stumble Innand the sizzling rockabilly swagger of The Lights Are Off But Somebody’s Home, with some powerfully emotive vocals reciting a darkly humorous tale of jealousy and revenge. Arriving as a sharp stylistic detour, the closing track is a bit of an outlier that nonetheless delivers an equally impressive punch. It’s here one really gets the sense of Paley’s influence on DeLisle’s music, and it’s a tribute to the two of them that they are able to make the song work in the overall context of the style and tone of the album. Born out of a love for classical music, specifically Debussy’s ‘Clair de lune’, the exquisite Claire is a moving love song dedicated to DeLisle’s estranged mother. It features a panoply of instruments, yet the arrangement never feels crowded, preserving the song’s genteel mood. Over a pristine layer of sound where various instruments weave in and out of the mix, the song beautifully mirrors the feeling of two people who have drifted apart: “Hey Claire / Where’d you go? / Sometimes I think I’ll never know / Sometimes I cry / but you don’t care”.
These simple lines, direct and obviously deeply personal, serve as the emotional anchor of the track. It’s a breathtakingly cinematic piece where the emotional pull of the words lingers long after the final notes fade. You can almost see the credits begin to roll as the song concludes; a simply sublime piece that perfectly encapsulates DeLisle’s ability to handle different musical styles with ease. A very fine album all around.
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