Tedious country from cowboy hat wearing starlet Hilary Scott
Singer/Songwriter and all round cowgirl Hilary Scott has already released ‘Road to Hope’ on Belltown Records but now it’s up to us Brits to decipher its strange, cryptic meanings. For when the dust clouds settle surely, there will be a reason for its re-introduction?
From the very beginning the unmistakable twang of country hangs thick in the air. First song ‘Daydreamer’ sounds like America, it sounds like a motel stop a quarter mile out from some sleepy ol’ town with its slide guitar and harmonicas a plenty. Scott has a country voice; it’s loud and brash and nasal and that’s fine, in theory, because genres do have different styles.
But wait a minute; something’s not quite right here. While the vocal harmonies in ‘Daydreamer’ start off well, showcasing Scott’s range and delivery as well as complimenting the slow and steady drumbeat and bass, her voice begins to slip in and out of key. Towards the end of the track, whether it’s through her insistence on performing unreasonable feats of vocal gymnastics or simply bad production, the harmonies stop matching with the instrumentation. And that, country-fans, is not a good way to start an album.
Second track, ‘Sugar Bomb’ sounds like it’s going to be an explosion of happiness topped off with a dose of candy coated glee. It’s a surprise then, when the overall feel doesn’t match its name. The track never progresses behind the statically required elements of a generic song, guitar, bass, drums and voice. Scott rings out in her bellowing style: “You’re too sweet for me, sugar. Maybe need a glass of water.” Surely country starlets drink Whiskey? After all, the album was mastered in Nashville, Tennessee by Dave Shipley. Now, there’s no need to advocate alcoholism, but a shot of JD might have added the punch this song needed, especially if Hilary had conjured up some much needed emotion at the bottom of the glass.
Scott’s voice all in all is hard to critique. It’s not bad; in fact she’s got a good pair of lungs inside that tiny, cowboy hat wearing body of hers. But she over does it almost constantly. It’s just, too loud. It drowns out the instruments as well as a long list of musicians who have come to play for her and yes, they are part of a band and yes, they are getting paid, but that’s not the point, is it?
So, with this information now logged firmly into your minds, what do you think the outcome would be if Hilary Scott covered ‘Hallelujah”? Well, strangely enough it isn’t quite as good as Leonard Cohen or Jeff Buckley’s version.
In both the original and Buckley’s seminal cover, the lyrics are so affective because both voices are haunting as well as cherubic, drifting with ease from quiet sombre melancholy to heart wrenching gushes of emotion. To say that Scott hasn’t pulled off a song which requires its performer to have genuinely lived a life strewn with lost loves and crippling disappointment is an understatement. Speaking in fairness though, it is unlikely that anyone of Scott’s age could have made this song there own.
So, what more is there to say but this? While there are brief moments when Scott’s album seems to offer promise there is no real Road to Hope. What we are left with are the husked, passive pieces of commercial country gone wrong.