| The
Idaho Falls: Concrete Prairie (self-released)
Though
it doesn't quite carry the weight of its influences, Concrete
Prairie is an album nonetheless filled with gorgeous pedal
steel and exquisite harmonies. The album practically beams with
an unabashed love for country (or even just the idea
of it), but despite its old-time feel, smatterings of guitar effects
and a punchy rhythm section keep it from being pure nostalgia.
There are moments during the finest outings here that perfectly
sum up what this band does best. Take the album's title track,
which begins as Hawaiian-flavored 1940s AM radio before a startling
segue into space-age balladry. It’s wonderful, as is “Canyon
Walls,” with its slow tension-and-release. In the song’s
final charged moments, Raymond Richards’ cries of “It’s
me that’s doing things wrong" surrender to overlapping
harmonies, cascading drums, and a pedal steel that could tear
a hole in the nighttime sky. It’s positively moving. They
shine again on the closer, “My Favorite One,” and
this might be Richards’ best vocal performance. There’s
something sad in singing about lost love, but something sadder
in singing “I’m glad you came along.” It takes
a big man, and it’s a line that defines Richards perhaps
in a way his voice can’t. As the story goes, The Idaho Falls formed late one night when two city kids discovered their mutual love for pedal steel guitar and classic country artists, and though they can’t quite escape their revivalist giveaways, their intention smacks of authenticity. In fact, their utter lack of pretension might be their biggest triumph. Their business, on the other hand, seems to be in romanticism: Concrete Prairie above all is a love letter to the past, and who doesn’t want to escape now and then?
By Gary Knight
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