Album review: Whiskey Priest showcases songwriter greatness on new record Grief and Praise
Some records come out at just the right time. This sentiment can be for recent releases like Father John Misty’s Pure Comedy and older releases like Jeff Buckley’s Grace. When an album seems timely to a listener, having memories with that music is something to cherish forever. Prolific Austin turned Albuquerque songwriter Seth Woods has been at it for a long time. As a revered collaborator for local Austin legends like Chris Simpson of Mineral and a member of Simpson’s indie pop outlet Zookeeper, Woods has taken his own path with The Whiskey Priest. The project is the brainchild of Woods. This record is his third full-length outing.This time he’s back at it with a cohesive full-length that’s as epic as it is personal. Grief and Praise takes us on a reflective emotional journey that doesn’t rest until the end.
A departure from the project’s guitar-heavy sound, this album takes a unique approach to everything that’s not guitar-driven. The opening piano ballad, “An Invocation,” is a slow burner in the best of ways. Woods’ vocal melodies and synth-heavy piano passages are a welcome addition to the singer’s opening lyrical stanzas. In The Whiskey Priest’s lyricism, Woods doesn’t grovel in the face of adversity, instead he reflects and proposes multiple forms of redemption and truth. When the drums kick in, it’s a sweet catharsis on all fronts. Seth Woods has pulled you into his Whiskey Priest world, and the excitement doesn’t stop there. The nearly 7-minute epic “When You Were Stretched Out In Front Of Me” feels like a homage to memories of the past. The storytelling in this selection is fantastic and has you following Woods to the ends of his psyche. The melodious instrumentals with the comely vocal delivery evokes a Neutral Milk Hotel or Mount Eerie track.
“No Complaints” and “No Spell” are back-to-back tracks that flow in a remarkable exhibition of longing emotion. On “No Complaints,” the stripped-down percussion and synth lines that back the opening vocal passages are a stunning display of what The Whiskey Priest has been developing in their new sound for this era of the band. Throughout the track’s nearly 8-minute runtime, it develops into a chamber orchestra explosion of pure, fucking beauty. Woods isn’t afraid to stretch things out on this record, there’s always something to behold with every moment.
“A Moon Spell” follows with an experimental, Radiohead-oriented intro leading to a delightful banjo section. The Western vibes of the first leg of this track that evolve into the song’s gloriously anthemic bridge and outro are notable on what is probably the most cohesive cut on the record. The harmonious vocals from Woods are on point and make it somewhat difficult to listen to other parts of the music when you’re hanging on his every word.
When The Whiskey Priest is basking in piano-filled glory, it feels like a time of reflection. Music like this makes you think. This type of vision quest is shown in its most enormous prominence on the track “The Last Word” featuring Emily Cross. The duo on this track complement each other beautifully. It feels like you’re right there with the band as they serenade you and you only.
The dark, piano blues bar tune “What It Means” highlights Seth Woods as he tells a story that features his own mortality. “When I wake up, I’m still myself,” Woods sings. This line from Woods reminds me of Bluegrass titan Billy Strings’ “Everything’s The Same,” in which Strings sings, “No matter where I roam, everything’s the same.” We can all relate to searching for things that sometimes aren’t there. This track shines a light on the unknown and sheds some light on what can come next in these often volatile times. Woods is trying to find one brick of truth to find some sense of the life we all live today.
The closing tune, “The Night I First Knocked On Your Door,” is a slow-burner that pays off with sprawling results. The most guitar-driven tune on the record, the arpeggiated opening sections create a sense that it’s the beginning of the end for this venture of The Whiskey Priest. At this point, you must have stayed on the ride for this long, as this is when Seth Woods ties the narrative together. To make sense of all of this, Woods never steps off the gas, not allowing the sounds to fade until the track’s strings take the listener away into a sweet bliss.
Listening to Grief and Praise is a search for closure while solving mysteries that might have arisen along the journey. With the help of producer Alex Dupree, Woods has sculpted a beautifully inquisitive body of music that provokes and pushes an envelope of belonging and meaning. It’s exciting to see Woods in a masterful outline of true self-realization.
When You Were Stretched Out in Front of Me video shot and directed by Michael Maly. Featured photo courtesy of The Whiskey Priest.
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