Chris Porterfield begins his songwriting process by conceiving lyrics. To anyone who’s heard a single verse of one of his songs, this tidbit shouldn’t come as a surprise—while most lyrics lose their potency when read from an album’s liner notes, Porterfield’s stand just as strong alone as they do when sung and backed by instruments.
The words Porterfield penned for Field Report’s haunting, self-titled 2012 debut are ripe with riddles and content in remaining cryptic. There are trails of crumbs sprinkled throughout the record’s 10 tracks, yet—for the most part—what happens to his characters on the surface isn’t what’s actually occurring. It’s odd to look at a band’s debut as a closed door, but it’s tough to view Field Report as anything more than a quick peek into something that wants to remain hidden.
Marigolden, Field Report’s country-tinged second effort, addresses the same themes as its predecessor (loss, love, and alcohol) with the shades pulled back. Whereas Field Report begrudgingly took you to the wreckage, Marigolden is accepting in its lyrics and able to propel forward in its percussion-driven songs. It’s a record that was conceived on the road about being on the road—about characters missing their loved ones and what it means to stay sober when you’re playing in a bar every night.
Though there’s a sense of positivity sprinkled throughout, Marigolden is by no means a breezy listen. As evidenced by “Pale Rider” (an overwhelming duet about losing a child) and “Ambrosia” (a one-take, Neil-Young-esque wonder about remaining paralyzed in the face of needing to change), admittance and opening up can be much scarier than keeping a problem tucked within yourself.
Change looks good on Porterfield, though. “Decision Day,” an acoustic meditation on change, is as crisp as autumn and as fresh of a start as any album can strive for, and “Home (Leave the Lights On)” is a track laden with Tom Petty and a much welcome change-up from the band’s usual musically-pensive state. In fact, as a whole, Marigolden moves at a much faster rate than Field Report. Thanks largely in part to percussionists Shane Leonard and Ben Lester’s pressing rhythms, it mirrors what Field Report’s live set has morphed into over the last two years of touring.
But the most noted presence on Marigolden is that of All Tiny Creatures’ Tom Wincek, who lends his hand in giving songs like “Wings” simple yet effective electronic backing tracks. This meshing of old-style country with electronic elements is extremely refreshing and reminds me greatly of alt-country whiz Daughn Gibson.
If there’s one downside to Marigolden, it’s that its melodies have a tendency to bleed into one another. This effect does, however, succeed in linking every story and sentiment within. And as a document of the uncertainty of the future and an acknowledgement of the past, Marigolden is a triumph. You’ll be hard pressed to find a record that better imparts that feeling of shedding an old skin and staring soberly and straight-eyed into the unknown.
Marigolden