![]() ![]() Rateliff, whether he likes it or not, tends to ruminate on things. “I’m like, am I actually just talking to myself, or am I trying to project onto the listener?” “I mean, I feel like the narrative on that song in particular changes from time to time when I listen to it,” he says. “I’m afraid to admit that it’s catching up to me too.” Fittingly, he’s still not sure exactly where he stands on this knife-edge. “I’m afraid that the weight of the world is catching up with you,” Rateliff sings at one point. On Survivor Rateliff finds the common ground between the two states, kicking things up a gear with a percussive, rafter-shaking hook that’s more Imagine Dragons than Crosby, Stills and Nash. The Future, his new record alongside his band the Night Sweats, is a pandemic piece that, from its title on down, funnels the uncertainty of the time into songs that try really hard to convince us that things will probably be fine in the end.ĭriven on by a grandstand vocal performance – all deadpan melody, riffs on Bob Dylan and Nina Simone, and gruff emotion dredged up from way down inside – the album is at turns very slick and reassuringly down home. By October, the upstairs rooms at the house were habitable, and at that point the wheels were turning out in the studio, too. “I was only gone for 10 shows and came home and I had to move into my garage,” the Americana star says with a rueful laugh.
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