[rating=8.00]
Having proven their versatility, not to mention their comfort with modern technology, on their 2011 album Celebration, Florida, The Felice Brothers return to their forte of equally cinematic, albeit far more earthy, contemporary folk music on Favorite Waitress. The quintet have not only rediscovered their niche, but, from start to finish, sound clearly overjoyed to have done so.
Ian Felice’s wan vocals are buoyed by the light melody on “Bird on a Broken Wing,” while the strains of sibling James’ accordion contain elements of each part of the arrangement and thus unites them. David “Este” Estabrook maintains not just an ever-so-solid backbeat on “Cherry Licorice,” his foursquare drumming reinforces the lilt that arises from the song’s refrain, a component of the mix producer Jeremy Backofen, a percussionist himself, knows how to keep in proportion to the other instruments. The quintet proceeds on an inexorable march of “Woman Next Door” through a spontaneous combustion of piano, Greg Farley’s fiddle and electric guitar.
Similarly, jagged electric chords enhance the spacious, floating quality within “Meadow of a Dream,” in keeping with its picturesque title. It’s no longer a facile reference point to rightly reference the sound of The Band in a track like “Saturday Night” and it’s not just the dry, natural sound of the drums or even the melancholy in the singing; to which bassist Josh Rawson contributes. The timeless quality of the Felice Brothers’ best original material, the likes of which fills this record, confirms how thoroughly they’ve processed the country and blues roots of their music and now imprint what they write and play with their own distinctive persona; the good-naturedly ramshackle likes of which suggests they’re characters who walked straight out of the songs of The Basement Tapes.
On “Hawthorne,” Ian’s voice may sound a bit too similar to the reedy tones of Dylan in the mid-Seventies, but he could have a worse role model, especially given the fact Felice is careful to enunciate much more clearly than the Bard. On “Katie Cruel,” the whole band sounds like they’re about to fall apart at certain points, but they maintain their keen instincts and slow down just enough to gather themselves just in time for another chorus. Clearly not self-conscious about themselves, Ian, James and company sound wise beyond their years, which may be the key to their credibility as a band and their innate collective skill at imbuing songs like “Alien” with such insinuating subtleties.
Prolific as The Felice Brothers have already been, the natural air of Favorite Waitress suggests they will be making music that simultaneously haunts and charms for years to come. Whatever form it may take, it most likely will play like this album; its tracks form as scenes in that great movie flash by in what seems like the blink of an eye.
