Colter Wall Fills the Big Empty With Little Songs
On his fifth LP, the Canadian country artist sings about cowboys and their lives
Canadian country singer Colter Wall possesses many great qualities. He’s a top-shelf songwriter, well-versed in the ways of traditional twang. He’s also a thoughtful lyricist, able to sing with authenticity about the hard-working days and hard-living nights of real-deal cowboys. He’s a competent guitar player, a compelling performer, a sharp dresser and, by all accounts, a humble human being.
And yet, all of it takes a backseat to that voice. As a vocalist, Wall is a once-in-a-generation wonder. His voice is as deep as a canyon, tough as tree bark and weathered like a hand-me-down saddle. He sounds like a 78-year-old troubadour trapped inside a 28-year-old’s body, and he has sounded like that since he arrived on the underground country scene a half-dozen years ago. He is—if you’ll indulge an already tired truism and some optimistic vision-casting—Johnny Cash for the 21st century.
That voice is the centerpiece of Wall’s excellent new album Little Songs, but that doesn’t mean it steals the show. Instead, it tucks snugly into songs like “Standing Here,” which clearly explains why his live shows are few and far between (he has two scheduled this year) and establishes his priorities:
I’m just hiding out
From all them music people
I’m sure they’d all claim to be my friends
But I’m not lying now
They’d sell me for a nickel
In my future or my pasture, they ain’t welcome in
To be clear, Wall is not just talking the talk. He seems every bit as interested in ranch work as making music, if not more so. His press releases are datelined Battle Creek, Saskatchewan, a rural area in the southwest corner of the province, and the art that adorns Little Songs features photos of branding irons, beautiful pastures and dozens of cows on the move as Wall (and others) look on from atop horses. “We calve in the spring and we ship ‘em in the fall,” he sings in “Cow/Calf Blue Yodel,” a folk-blues tune about the necessarily thrifty nature of cowpokes. “Come winter, find me digging through the pockets of my coveralls.”