Have you ever wondered about that co-worker in your office that you know well enough to exchange pleasantries with but little else? One has to wonder what they do when they punch out at the end of the day – sometimes if you happen to bump into them outside of work, your perceptions get irreparably altered because they’re a completely different person. Outside of that professional context – when the office attire comes off, when she takes off her Chanel and she hops on her motorcycle – you get a glimpse of another side of him or her that’s a total surprise. In a lot of ways, that’s the sort of reaction that Sarah Blackwood’s solo debut will get from listeners. Stepping out of the “Sin” persona that she uses to front horrorbilly harbingers The Creepshow, the first thing that’s noticeable about Way Back Home is the fact that there is almost no similarity between Blackwood’s solo work and the music she makes with the band; from note one, there is no rockabilly swagger, no Gretsch guitar crunch and no hillbilly bluster anywhere on Way Back Home. In their place rests a set of sweet, back porch-flavored Country-folk that places more stock and value in hope and redemption than any ghouls, goblins or darker impulses.
Needless to say, if what listeners are hoping for when they pick up Way Back Home is some sort of encore performance of The Creepshow’s Run For Your Life album, the closest they’re going to get here is in this record’s opening track, “Lonely Parade.” In that song, listeners can actually listen to the singer scaling back her vocal belt as the tape rolls amid subdued, acoustic instruments and, as it fades and “Dyin’ Day” starts up, the transition is complete; with just an acoustic guitar for company, Blackwood pours her heart out in front of anyone listening and explains every apprehensive misgiving, lonesome lament and apologetic confession she has in her because, in some way, audiences can tell that they’re eating her alive but she doesn’t dare share them with a rock audience. Through songs including “My Mistake Baby Boy,” “Simple Like This,” “Sweet Thing,” the title track and (the completely doubt-removing) “I’m Sorry,” Blackwood practically begs listeners on bended knee for some assistance and shelter from a cold, cruel and unforgiving world here in a tone that aches with equal amounts of June Carter’s soul-bearing (or soul-flaying depending on the moment) delivery and Susanna Hoffs’ poppy gloss; it’s a remarkably enticing combination that almost instantly wins hearts in its engaging vulnerability.
While it doesn’t happen often here, when the singer brings in some extra players to help fill out the songs, it ends up becoming a remarkably heart-warming affair. In another “shades of the Carter Family” moment, “Dyin’ Day,” “Lonely Parade,” “Dealing Aces,” “I’m Sorry” and “Mama,” Ian Blackwood (Sin’s brother and front man for Artist Life), Jen Blackwood (sister and ex-Creepshow singer), Mike Blackwood (the father of Sin), Hooch Parkins (brother in-law and front man for The Matadors) as well as a couple of members of the extended family (Sick Nab from The Creepshow notably) all lend their talents in the guitar, songwriting and harmonica seats but, really, all of that is just window dressing and frills for Sarah Blackwood’s own unique muse and project here. At no point in these proceedings do any of the auxiliary players even try to take some of the spotlight – not that they’d be capable of it; with production and songwriting that focuses on the singer (coffeehouse-style arrangements, few if any solos) – she us upfront and center here and Way Back Home is a showcase of her talents alone.
And those talents are considerable. In these dozen songs, Sarah Blackwood forsakes Sin and successfully recasts her image from The Creepshow’s hell raising frontwoman so soft and sweet solo songwriter flawlessly. Those that discover this album will be offered an answer to that question of what some people do after work; after a long, loud day on stage, Sarah Blackwood craves a more intimate, personal and beautiful connection. Way Back Home is that connection and is a rare opportunity – combined with The Creepshow’s Run For Your Life – to get not just a complete portrait of an artist or a musician, but a complete portrait of a person.
Artist:
Sarah Blackwood's solo myspace
Label:
Stomp! Records website
