Rachel McIntyre Smith - Honeysuckle Friend
Self-released
****
Some songwriters are wary of tying the content of their work too closely to their real lives. Not Rachel McIntyre Smith, who makes a beeline for her own insecurities, timidness and doubts with thought-provoking stories, wrapped up in comforting hope, entwined in the positivity of new beginnings. Intimately recorded and emotionally accessible, this is a near-perfect five-song collection in which the diversity of Rachel’s musical interests coalesces to fulfill the promise hinted at with her 2022 GLORY DAZE debut. She once again proves herself a searingly honest writer that fleshes out numerous angles of a given topic, but she’s adept enough to let melodic joy and buoyant rhythms overtake any navel-gazing lyrics. These songs speak loud, proud, and direct, with Rachel expressing herself as a fearless woman speaking openly to her listeners and to her peers. It’s a vibrant, clearer, and more rootsy sound that revolves around acoustic guitars, mandolin, banjo and three-part harmonies, though her writing remains as unnervingly mature and crushingly vulnerable as ever. An unassuming style that owes its only obligation to honesty and exuberance, resting somewhere between the literacy of Kacey Musgraves and the storytelling of Dolly Parton. Rachel sings in a soft East Tennessee twang, and like Parton, her voice sometimes has a little-girl quality that conveys grown-woman ideas. Bow down to country music’s new homecoming queen.
A gentle force, guided by the intimacy of her voice and the precocity of her writing, the banjo-led Grow Up Slow, is rooted in self-reflection, as she faces head-on her life as a mid-twenty-year-old single female. The song acts as a determined reclamation of self with a honeyed, knowing voice filled with a bit of twang, and the occasional wink and smile. Rachel’s most powerful statement comes with the funky Stoke The Coals, in which she shrugs off her romantic hesitancy to boldly put herself out there, without sacrificing the fun of her oeuvre. Unsurprisingly, it has a 1980s country vibe, done bluegrass style. The banjo-driven Memories In The Middle is warm and comforting, full of hooks and a narrative that draws you in like a bear to honey. It doesn’t sound retro because it feels so gloriously right for 2024, a bell-bottom joyful anthem for the summer we haven’t quite got yet.
Andy Ellison’s haunting pedal steel adds a fresh dimension to Hold The Ladder, a delicate romantic declaration that builds nicely as her fervour rises to show off just how strong a vocalist this girl can be when needed. Most enjoyable is the gorgeous (Parentheses), in which she outlines the awkwardness of running into someone that you’ve been trying unsuccessfully to avoid. Steel guitar wafts away in the background as Rachel harmonises with herself, hitting a reedy and resonant hum. A pure delight from start to finish, which perfectly sums up this whole collection.
August 2024