Why isn't Tift Merritt famous? For one thing, she's responsible for one of the best acoustic guitar strums of 2004-- the simple notes that usher in "Stray Paper", the opening cut off her new album Tambourine. They're everything they should be and nothing more: thick, melodic and in service to the singer. And when coupled with the track's lyrics, the song suggests a stately Neil Young, but with Merritt's composed, gorgeous voice rather than a world-weary falsetto.
Already recognized for her heralded 2002 debut, Bramble Rose, Merritt is still languishing in pop purgatory, but Tambourine has all the makings of a smash. Recorded by George Drakoulias (who helmed albums for The Black Crowes and The Jayhwaks) and with session musicians instead of Merritt's backing band, the album dresses simple, solid Americana in glamorous, well-cut attire, swerving clear of prevalent mainstream gags such as goofy humor, crystalline production, and schmaltzy narratives. Instead, Merritt veers toward a more soulful sound: Tracks like "Ain't Looking Closely" and "Wait It Out" are classic backporch power pop, while "Late Night Pilgrim" sounds like Wilco had they hunkered down and refined their country licks instead of branching out into more experimental territory. And while these songs don't offer much variety, the buoyant, well-balanced instrumentation makes Tambourine a breezy listen.
Emerging singer/songwriters face a tough task: Establishing a distinct personality through subtle qualities in voice. Merritt is still working on her image-- for now, she's more likely to be described in terms of her forebears than in laudatory descriptors-- but on "Good Hearted Man" she gives her best shot. If the track's horn refrain sonuds familiar, that's because it swipes the opening notes from "Pomp and Circumstance". Fortunately, the high school graduation standard provides a fluffy foundation for Merritt to lay down her wishes and avowals. The song-- with its sprightly upbeat guitar hits, tinselly horns, and crooned backup vocals-- reveals an affection for Motown and classic American soul, a refreshing homage coming from a country singer. Merritt's lyrics are sentimental and unspectacular but her sanguine voice infuses otherwise run-of-the-mill verses about finding a suitable bedfellow with fresh blood.
And that's pretty much the norm for Tambourine. Who needs fancy words when an effortless turn of inflection can speak volumes? Merritt has a long way to go before she runs the risk of being mistaken for A-league stars like Emmylou Harris and Dusty Springfield. But that we can speculate about her one day achieving that status is itself a tremendous compliment.
