Brittany Howard first came to my
attention as the lead singer and guitar player
for Alabama Shakes. An unbelievably great
player with a tremendous voice, she fronted a band
that was doing some hybrid of blues, gospel, jazz,
funk, all with the kind of sonic production
you’d find on the most alternative of rock records.
The two Brittany Howard solo albums push all
of those elements to the forefront even more
adventurously. In some ways, her soulful tunes
and soulful singing are pretty conventional, but
the drum sounds are crazy, there are weird noises
in the background, synthesizers and other gizmos,
the bass guitars are thumping dangerously,
dangerously close to the edge, the changes are
surprising and artful, and the production is
sometimes cacophonous or noisy, but sometimes
stripped way back to a guitar and a voice. It’s a
strange audio experience. She sings beautifully,
or talks or preaches with intensity and power,
and the lyrics are often uplifting and affirming,
inspiring, all while there’s a kind of ugliness or
messiness in the sonic landscape, perhaps a perfect
illustration of the dichotomy of the United States
in the 21st century. Brittany Howard is a treasure.
These two albums, Jaime and What Now, are both
difficult and essential, worth repeated listening,
worthy of serious attention and study.
Notes on the vinyl editions:
- Jaime, ATO Records, 2019, heavyweight black and gray swirl vinyl.
- What Now? Island Records, 2024, translucent yellow vinyl.
In case you don’t already know: I’m listening to almost everything in my vinyl collection, A to Z, and writing at least one, sometimes two or three long skinny poem-like-things in response for each artist, and on a few occasions, writing a long skinny poem-like-thing in response to more than one artist. As a poet and a student of poetry, I understand that these things look like poems, but they don’t really sound much like poetry, hence, I call them “poem-like-things.” I’ll admit that they’re just long, skinny essays that veer every now and then into the poetic or lyric.
michael jarmer 