Dishing up confessional vignettes over sublimely performed and supremely arranged compositions, its heartfelt blend of style and substance will be more than enough to keep spirits high as those winter nights draw in. The term ‘lockdown album’ might be increasingly irritating, but it can’t be denied that records made during that period have, more often than not, been among their creator’s best work. By letting people know it’s OK not to be OK, while excavating cautious hope from despair, these laudable, vulnerable songs will offer comfort to anyone who’s hit the wall and is struggling to ask for help. Whether bellowing, swooning or seducing, they bring an abundance of heart, warmth and optimism to the musical side of a lyrically tormented record that boasts a strong ‘70s singer-songwriter vibe.Īll notions of old school masculinity are ditched on Survivor, where Rateliff admits to a loved one that he’s not the island they believe him to be, and Love Me Til’ I’m Gone, a blue-eyed soul cut that sees him crying out for support while aping Van Morrison fronting Procol Harum. I’m On Your Side, meanwhile, is a sterling proclamation of solidarity that offers an extended showcase for the band’s magnificent horn section.įar from being window dressing, they’re a big, beaming character in their own right. Imploring himself not to waste away, when its majestic, cleansing vocal and saxophone crescendo kicks you’ll be a blubbering, euphoric mess. What If (featuring delightful harmonies from Jenny Lewis and Jess Wolfe) grooves like early Elton John as he searches for belief “when only half of the cards are shown”, before hitting a refrain that’s so classic you’ll swear Barry White once sang it.Įlsewhere, Face Down In The Moment is a slow burning pick-me-up that finds the frontman suffocated by the weight of the world. Impelled by stomping beats and lacerating brass bursts, Rateliff’s preacher man persona extols the power of self-assertion and shakes the heavens above. Love Don’t is The Four Tops possessed by wolves.

Where the group’s second album, 2018’s ‘Tearing At The Seams’, was sometimes over-indebted to the likes of Booker T & the M.G.’s, Otis Redding and Ray Charles, ‘The Future’ is more balanced.Īlthough exhibiting a hearty reverence for those idols, while referencing everyone from Bob Dylan and The Band to Bill Withers and The Beatles, they’ve crafted a thematically watertight record that, by addressing contemporary tribulations, gives these songs a unique identity of their own. Taking their classicist cues from hallowed styles such as Motown, country, gospel and rock ‘n’ roll, it’s an almighty challenge to make original music that isn’t merely a second-rate homage. It can’t be easy for Rateliff and company.

When he steps up to the microphone, it’s as if some unstoppable force has entered his body, using him as a conduit to express elemental truths about life, love and, on this soul-searching record, the existential crisis that overwhelmed him during the pandemic.

Backed by the wonderfully expressive Night Sweats, a joyous eight piece ensemble who dispatch vintage Muscle Shoals R&B textures with class to burn, Nathaniel Rateliff never sounds like a man who consciously writes and sings music.

Survivor lyrics nathaniel rateliff