MUSIC REVIEWS

Over the Rhine, “Love & Revelation” (Great Speckled

Dog)

Karin Bergquist and Linford Detweiler share a marriage and the stage as the duo Over the Rhine, but often write separately, and so far that approach seems to work. For their latest album, Detweiler composed “Let You Down”—a pledge of commitment—and the Ohio couple sing it together, their partnership still harmonious after 30 years.

“Love & Revelation” is a subdued but lovely celebration of the milestone. It won’t surprise longtime fans that the topics are often sad and the tempos mostly slow, all the better to showcase Bergquist’s warm, wise, honest alto. She sounds better than ever, with a depth and richness that makes her voice resonate like a prayer.

The songs are strong, whether written by him or her. They address heartache, hope and the push and pull of the road and relationships. Bergquist and Detweiler co-produced, and a crack supporting cast includes Greg Leisz and Bradley Meinerding, who shine on electric guitar, and drummer Jay Bellerose, who makes sure the leisurely beat doesn’t stall.

In the liner notes Bergquist and Detweiler cite poetry as inspiration, but tunes are at the foundation of the couple’s collaboration. The closing “An American in Belfast” is a wordless benediction written by Detweiler, with humming by Bergquist. Good? Uh-huh.— Steven Wine, The Associated Press

Sigrid, “Sucker Punch”

(Island Records)

Rising pop singer Sigrid’s new album “Sucker Punch” is perfectly titled—it’s a surprise hit you never saw coming that instantly makes an impact.

The Norwegian performer has a knack for pure, crystalline synth-pop and her 12-track full-length debut is a string of massive hooks and beats, fed by videos featuring the seemingly normal and endearingly goofy 22-year-old.

Sigrid—born Sigrid Solbakk Raabe—first came to notice in 2017 with her breakout hit “Don’t Kill My Vibe,” a millennial giving shade to anyone talking down to her. “Say I’m young/I don’t care/I won’t quit,” she sings on it. That song is included in “Sucker Punch” but it might not even be the high point of the album.

She lets her falsetto soar on “Basic,” shows adaptability on the complex “Strangers” and while the excellent Lorde-like title track seems deceptively spare, it’s a pure wriggling earworm.

Lorde is, appropriately, a fan, adding two Sigrid songs to her “Homemade Dynamite” Spotify playlist, alongside tunes by Future, Taylor Swift and Khalid. Sigrid’s cover of Leonard Cohen’s classic “Everybody Knows” made it onto the “Justice League” soundtrack.

Sigrid has gotten some songwriting assistance from Emily Warren, who has worked with The Chainsmokers, Dua Lipa and Backstreet Boys. Her lyrics often touch on seeking connections, looking for reassurance in love or confessing that she feels exposed. “My heart is aching, do you feel it too?” she asks on the outstanding orchestra-fed, recovery song “Don’t Feel Like Crying.”

Sigrid shows a lot of her range on the album, adopting a slight reggae feel on “Business Dinners” and virtually rapping on “Don’t Feel Like Crying.” On “Dynamite,” the album closer, she tosses out all the synths and drum machines in favor of a simple piano accompaniment. It’s a devastating breakup song and it’s a vocal standout. “You’re safe as a mountain/But know that I am dynamite,” she sings.

So feel free to add Sigrid to the list of fellow rising pop talents like Aurora and Astrid S. who all hail from Norway. And get ready for her sucker punch.—Mark Kennedy, The Associated Press

Nick Waterhouse, “Nick Waterhouse” (Innovative Leisure)

“There’s an exit/and there’s a way out/the two just ain’t the same” is a typical lyric from Nick Waterhouse’s self-titled fourth album, a collection that stays true to his particular style and sets images and stories of 21st-century noir to soul and R&B sounds rooted in the 1950s and ’60s.

“Undedicated,” the source of the words above, could be sung by the protagonist of Chris Isaak’s “Wicked Game” as he nears the end of the line—or, let’s be optimistic, a new start—and the tune’s baritone and tenor saxes help to paint a grim horizon: “Feel that old fear … that nobody’s gonna remember your name.”

With an insistent little riff and dangerous guitar by Bart Davenport, “El Viv” is the kind of instrumental that helps understand why bands like The Ventures became so influential without having to sing a single word, while “Which Was Writ” is just as cool, its skeletal arrangements relying on a Telecaster, a baritone guitar and slightly reverbed vocals.

Waterhouse does most of the songwriting himself and the one cover here is soul music legend Jo Armstead’s “I Feel an Urge Coming On,” an unabashed ode to kissing, hugging and whatever may consensually follow.

“Black Glass” investigates global obsessions as the walls keep closing in and “Song for Winners” sounds cruel—“I hear no fearlessness/ only fear”—but could just as well be a call for resolve and action.

Waterhouse isn’t alone in the arena when it comes to looking back decades for sonic blueprints—the whole Daptone roster and Pokey LaFarge spring to mind—but there’s an edge to some of his subject matter that feels decidedly modern.

Nick Waterhouse may be a man out of time but don’t confuse that with living in the past.—Pable Gorondi, The Associated Press

Foals, “Everything Not Saved Will Be Lost—Part 1”

(Warner Bros.)

This year we are promised not just one Foals album, but two. And after listening to the first, we’re very, very lucky indeed.

The U.K. indie-pop art rockers offer 10 new crackling tracks on “Everything Not Saved Will Be Lost—Part 1,” their first since the departure of bassist Walter Gervers.

While the band’s last album, 2015’s “What Went Down,” veered toward Coldplay, this time they seem more Radiohead-ish, with more complexity, shards of distorted synth and a nightmarish vision of the world.

“Exits” is one of the standouts, a paranoid, post-apocalyptic pop-rock beauty (“The cities underground/ The flowers upside down,” frontman Yannis Philippakis sings). The gentle-sounding “Sunday” takes that theme and adds burning cities and birds singing about the end of the world.

“Syrups” is a psychedelic trip with a driving funk beat, squealing guitars and lyrics about robots and the devil. “On the Luna” is a terrific childhood memory rocker interrupted by the present (“Trump clogging up my computer”) and frayed sonic edges.

Foals are their most Radiohead—both bands hail from the city of Oxford—on “Cafe D’Athens” (you’ll swear Tom Yorke is singing.) And listen to “In Degrees” and applaud the insane mix of ’80s new wave pop, house, rave and trip-hop that somehow works.

Like many Foals albums, “Everything Not Saved Will Be Lost—Part 1” is top-heavy with great songs before petering out. (The 44-second instrumental “Surf, Pt. 1” may make more sense if there’s a follow-up on the next album, but it seems like wasted time here).

The album ends—after all that fascinating exploration— with the simple, mournful piano dirge “I’m Done with the World (& It’s Done with Me).” It’s a real downer: Leaves are on fire, Philippakis is on his knees and it’s raining. But there’s one bright spot: In a few months, we’ll get Part 2.—Mark Kennedy, The Associated Press

Patty Griffin, “Patty Griffin” (PGM/Thirty Tigers)

It’s taken Patty Griffin more than 20 years and nearly a dozen albums to issue a self-titled release. There may be no particular reason for the designation, but considering its intensely meditative character, her recently-revealed successful battle with cancer and her dedication to besieged causes like refugees and the environment, it seems like a deliberate choice.

Recorded mostly in the Maine native’s Austin, Texas, home studio with longtime collaborator Craig Ross, “Patty Griffin” varies seamlessly between American folk, Celtic-rooted tunes, chansons and beyond with the excellence and elegance Griffin’s songwriting has deservedly become known for.

David Pulkingham’s Mediterranean-style guitar phrases underpin opener “Mama’s Worried,” one of several songs on the 13-track album that include seas, rivers and oceans as symbols of strength, vastness and even justice. “River” may be about a woman who is “ever changing and undefined,” or it could be an ode to an admired waterway with a will of its own.

“Coins” is one of two tracks featuring Griffin’s ex-beau Robert Plant, whose harmonies are endearingly subtle and supportive, with his contribution to “What Now”—a yearningly-sketched song of uncertainty with droning tones and Griffin’s mandolin-like guitar and riveting vocals—especially translucent.

“Bluebeard,” based on the French tale of the monstrous husband and the curious wife, and “Boys from Tralee,” detailing the dire fates of Irish immigrants, have similar folk approaches, while “Hourglass” slips its yearnings for freedom into a New Orleans trombone pocket.

Road song “Luminous Places” covers a wide terrain before an intimate conclusion, and closer “Just the Same” ponders a relationship’s ebb and flow and the consequences of patience and perseverance.

Griffin has never sounded any less than fully engaged on any of her albums and now that her name is on the building, so to speak, her commitment is as profound as ever.—Pablo Gorondi,