April showers are said to bring May flowers, at least here in the northern hemisphere, but does that age-old aphorism still apply? Global lands impacted by drought have more than doubled since 1900—and if the trend continues future generations will likely never experience light rain or nature’s splendor, just store-bought flowers printed inside climate-controlled facilities. That said, the Aprils of yore weren’t dour months accented by doom and gloom, just as May wasn’t always filled with blue skies and sunlight galore. We, as a people, tend to embrace generalities, after all.
Eric Gabriel’s sophomore effort, Lucky Day Roadrunner, swaps such platitudes for smart metaphors and coiffed vignettes that resonate. It’s mostly a low-key indie outing, moody rock fronted a singer-songwriter/pianist with a crack band behind him. Some songs harken back to the rustic days that used to be, such as the opening ode to constellations and broken hearts, “Perseids.” Others, such as the title track, shimmer with world-weariness.
“Blinded by the Light”—no, not the Springsteen classic—contains a cool groove (and cutting guitar solo), while Gabriel contemplates luck, fate and a near car crash outside of Charlotte. “Night After Night” explores the bubbly thoughts of hope and love that sometimes percolate through one’s head the moment it hits a pillow. The moody “Damon” delves into memories, fathers and friendships, and works well paired with the high-octane “Looking Back,” which crackles with wistful nostalgia. To my ears, the shaggy funk of “Rent,” released as a single last week, conjures the Doobie Brothers circa “What a Fool Believes” while Gabriel recalls his experience with someone who prefers to rent than buy—be it furniture, cars or even love.
“Jessie’s Place,” for its part, is a downcast ode to a relationship at its end, while “Teeth Bone Poems” plays out a bit like the sea pushing inland during high tide. Album closer “Watch On,” meanwhile, offers a lyrical bon mot many will identify with: “Time moves too fast/or I just move too slow.”
Produced by Philip Weinrobe at his Sugar Mountain studio in Brooklyn, the album was recorded live, with Gabriel accompanied by Adam Brisbin (Big Thief) on guitar, pedal steel and synths; Meg Duffy (Hand Habits, Perfume Genius) on guitar and synths; Dandy McDowell (Rubblebucket) on bass, guitar, and synths; and Sean Mullins (Hannah Cohen, Sam Evian) on drums, percussion, synths, and piano. Also lending a hand: Nuria Graham (guitar), Michael Haldeman (guitar, synths), Will Shore (vibraphone).
For the past good while, I’ve played Lucky Day Roadrunner alongside a slew of other albums, ranging from old favorites to new releases to a few I plan to spotlight in the weeks and months ahead. It’s always held its own. It’s moody and pensive, to be sure, somewhat like a rainy April day that forces us indoors, but not too much so. To borrow a few lines out of context (and, yet, not) from the Linda Gregg poem “Staying Alive”: “At night I watch the apartments/whose windows are still lit/after midnight. I fell in love./I believed people. And even now/I love the yellow light shining/down on the dirty brick wall.” Highly recommended.
The Old Grey Cat 