Scott Orr
Miles from Today
Other Songs
7.7/10

By David Sessions

In order to prepare myself for a review that’s a little out of my reach, and to confess the fact that I love folk-country music but am less than stellar at critiquing it, I will begin by attempting to set down what I look for in an album like this. Scott Orr, a singer-songwriter from Hamilton, Ontario, has joined the folk genre that has very much in common with classic country, but has little of the regional element that typically colors folk music. There’s nothing distinctively Canadian about Orr’s music, just as Wilco isn’t Chicago music. But Wilco’s wild critical acclaim, among other musical events including the return of Bob Dylan, has edged alternative country toward a position where even Pitchfork snobs are willing to pay attention.

Despite the experimental urges of the Wilco followers, the lifeblood of the genre continues to flow from songwriting, melody, and the good old acoustic guitar. So the challenge of a record like this is to be believable, to stick in the emotions, and, if you want a piece of Wilco’s critical prowess, be somewhat cerebral. Scott Orr manages to succeed enough at all three for his debut, Miles from Today, to be considered a resounding success. He generally eschews Wilco experimentation for Dylan stability; when you think it’s getting too predictable, his veritable symphony of instruments from the guitar family reveal a very respectable talent for crafting elaborate and tasteful textures.

Orr employs the very, very underappreciated option of starting soft, with the exact sort of entry point this album needs. Inspired by a post-Katrina trip to New Orleans (but loose enough to apply to an array of situations), “Don’t Want to See That Again” mournfully prays through the world-weariness of built-up tragedy. Two electric guitars wind melodies around each other as Orr, softly harmonizing with backup Sara Walther, deliver the wisely minimal lyrics that repeat the title and a notable image of “holding to life like it’s not holding to them.”

“Wondergirl” is Orr’s strongest Dylan imitation, with his husky vocals grasping for pitch over a classic strum pattern and a defining line, “Wonder girl I wonder where you are.” You love the song for some of the same reasons you love Brad Paisley’s “Whiskey Lullaby“—it’s smooth and delicate, plus Orr’s ever-present mandolin accents are constantly enlivening. “Hurricane” nods to Wilco—a sturdier beat and more frenetic instrumentation tell the story of a relationship that’s all right but all wrong (“We’re always on the same line, but just on the wrong page”). The right-in-all-the-wrong-ways metaphors get overextended along with the gratuitous train references, but don’t spoil a very catchy and likeable song.

Except for a trumpet descant that I really can’t stand, “You Know What This Song is About” is perfectly scant, with a simple guitar riff and muddled keyboard setting the fleeting track’s mood. Great music-making is finding the perfect sound for the perfect moment, and Orr almost always gets it right.

And before I run out of space, let’s deal with “Dreamer,” which is perhaps the best bit of songwriting on this record. It’s curiously presented in third person (the dreamers are described from afar) but I think only a dreamer himself could get inside the mind of one with this sort of surgical precision (“A dreamer is wherever a dreamer dreams/But a dreamer knows that a dream is just a dream”). Any “dreamer” will be sold when Orr sings “a dreamer’s heart beats a million more times than mine,” feeling as if someone finally put the tortured purgatory between reality and imagination into words.

As I’ve been studying first records of earnest new artists, I increasingly appreciate the difficulty of producing ten plus original songs and packaging them in one 45-minute act that’s supposed to hold a listener’s attention. In fact, few records are worth listening all the way through, which is perhaps why geniuses usually make them. But many thousands of respectable musicians make applaudable efforts to maintain their seriousness and attention to detail throughout a record’s entire running time. Scott Orr is a very praiseworthy one of these; if one grows weary of his overall sound late in the record, his meticulously crafted details keep his record fresh until it bows out as softly as it came.

David Sessions is the editor of The CCM Patrol.

Download “Hurricane” free at Scott’s website.