I’m driving in my car, but “drive” is a tad generous. I’m inching along in downtown Chapel Hill, the three buses in the righthand lane causing cars, SUVs and pickup trucks to shift into the left. No one wants to be stuck behind the behemoth—albeit free to ride—monstrosities, which stop almost every block. That is, no one but me. Charlotte Morris’ “Tennessee” fills the cabin, acting like a vortex created from sound and wonder: “Driving in your beat-up truck down back roads/Listening to Joni way too loud/Drawing out the seconds ’til it’s over/Cause the say that’s what being young is about.” There are moments throughout when her vocal arches high and, much like the Joni she mentions, almost stops time.
The nine tracks that follow swirl much as the first, though that vocal arch (for lack of a better term) isn’t a frequent occurrence. Instead, the focus is on the lyrics, which unwind topics typical of the young and young-at-heart, and the pleasing gradients of her voice. “Your Number One” hopes a cheating ex thinks of and misses her the way she no longer does him. “Love Ain’t Real” recalls the pain that came from her parents’ divorce. “Wild Child” contemplates settling down after a life of moving hither and yon. And “Good Kind of Hurt” delves into addiction and PTSD—subjects she knows well from the struggles her stepfather, a veteran who has struggled with both. It’s a powerful song. Here’s a stripped-down, no less spellbinding rendition of it:
“Breathe” tackles anxiety, another issue Morris knows well; it replicates the panic attacks she occasionally experiences as well as the soothing release that water brings her. The moving “The Day We Lost You,” about the tragic death of a friend, is another gem. “Time Will Tell” conjures the Tin Pan Alley tunes of yore while capturing the high that comes from a sweet first meeting with a potential life partner—when you leave the encounter walking on air, just about. “If My Heart Had a Say” jumps ahead a few weeks, months or years in the now-failed romance, when the heart wants to give it another go even though the head knows it won’t end well. “This Time ‘Round” ends the album on another high, encouraging listeners—and, no doubt, herself—to follow their dreams. Here’s her performance of it from the Woodsongs Old-Time Radio Show:
Musically speaking, the songs are essentially folk and folk-rock affairs with occasional country overtones, aka Americana in the parlance of the present, with acoustic guitars both strummed and plucked, gentle rhythms and keyboard accents sprinkled throughout. As a kid in suburban Philadelphia, she says on her website, “Every family car ride was filled with folk classics, musical theatre or classical music—Joni Mitchell, Judy Collins, Simon & Garfunkel, and Peter, Paul & Mary were all the soundtracks of my childhood.” She also toured with the Lonesome Traveler ensemble, which celebrates folk music, and appeared off-Broadway and in several touring musical productions after graduating college with a theater degree. That theatrical acumen is evident throughout the album, most notably on the dramatic “Breathe” and “The Day We Lost You.”
Wild Child was released in September 2023, but only entered my life this past week thanks to an Instagram ad. It says much about the sprawling nature of the modern music scene that something this good escaped my notice for so long, as it’s the kind of release that seems tailor-made for me. As I said up top, Morris speaks to both the young and young-at-heart in her songs. She paints vivid word pictures that demand repeated plays.


2 thoughts