Pages tagged “josh rouse”

Josh Rouse is riding the wave of the future. The singer-songwriter recently announced that he'll be offering online downloads of both new and unreleased music via his website.

Another laid back gem from a modern-day master

Since releasing his first album in 1998, Josh Rouse has quietly been amassing one of the most consistently satisfying bodies of work of any American singer/songwriter. Though his leanings were initially toward roots music, he soon branched out to incorporate pop, jazz and Latin elements, never once sounding self-conscious about it. His latest album, Country Mouse City House, is no exception, the title itself a play on his reputation, suggesting a fish comfortably out of water. Fans of his meta-concept album, 1972—with its honest evocation of that year’s seminal soft-rock pleasures—will enjoy the similar vein Rouse mines here. But it’s his balance of keen insight, wry humor and durable hooks on tracks like “Hollywood Bass Player” and “Domesticated Lovers” that make this collection of tunes such a lasting pleasure.

Idyllic song cycle about packing up and starting over… in Spain

The third volume in Rouse’s fruitful collaboration with producer Brad Jones, following 2003 artistic breakthrough 1972 and last year’s Nashville, Subtítulo also represents the first effort from the Nebraska-born former Nashville resident since he moved to Spain, post-divorce. Despite the playful title, there’s nothing overtly Latin about any of the LP’s 10 tracks, not even the instrumental “La Coasta Blanca.” No, the influence of Rouse’s picturesque new locale is subtler than that, bringing a touch of caressing languor to the soul-pop lilt of his last two albums. With its gentle rhythms and 33-minute running time, Subtítulo seems slight at first listen, but the songs eventually marry, suggesting the progression from a dead end to a new start—one that’s clearly romantic in nature, turning on the balmy “It Looks Like Love” and “Wonderful,” both courtship songs of disarming forthrightness. The apparent object of Rouse’s affection, the perfectly named Paz Suay, even makes an appearance, dueting fetchingly on before-and-after tale “The Man Who Doesn’t Know How to Smile.” Only the emotionally petrified could resist such unselfconscious sweetness.

Like Wilco, Josh Rouse has intentionally shed the misguided alt-country tag without sacrificing indie credibility. And, like Wilco, every album Rouse has released in his still young career seems to have outgrown its predecessor in terms of atmospheric flourish and sonic depth. The stark structures of his agrarian debut, Dressed Up Like Nebraska, were thickened by the polished urbane pop of Home. As a logical segue, Rouse’s expanding repertoire has found an appropriate canvas with Under Cold Blue Stars, a record that uses a textured backdrop of strings, synths and loops to embrace his subtle melodies and Sudafed croon.

The percussive textures and autumnal tones of the Roger Moutenot-produced Stars are a bit reminiscent of David Gray’s White Ladder. The two singers share an economy-of-words affinity by stressing–or stretching–a lyric to maximize emotional impact. As a result, the songs on Stars are felt, not heard.

Lyrically, Stars is a thinly veiled concept album documenting the physical and spiritual journey of a young Midwestern couple in the 1950s. Eleven tracks provide vignettes of the family’s ups and downs, including struggles with religious differences ("Christmas with Jesus") and attempts toward indefinite reconciliation ("Women and Men"). Stars’ mood shifts like the cycle of the day, with the dawn shimmer of "Nothing Gives Me Pleasure" and "Miracle" soon fading into the twilight of the title track’s blue-eyed soul. Rouse’s penchant for darker hues ("Summer Kitchen Ballad") coasts the listener past the shadows and into the night, and the plaintive lullaby, "The Whole Night Through," turns out the light with a glimpse of tomorrow’s first glow.

Considering that many successful artists often release a few albums before "finding" their audience, Under Cold Blue Stars gives the impression Rouse is just a hook away from mimicking his aforementioned contemporaries’ escape from relative obscurity.

See the rest of our 20 Signs of Life in 2002.