There’s a slight “Sympathy For the Devil” tone to the opening seconds of “Pendulum Swing”, the first track on the US country adjacent stylist and former Grammy nominee Courtney Marie Andrews’ ninth studio album – the descending piano figure, the circling percussion. As the song opens out, it develops into a dark-light exercise in contrasts, along the lines of the more muted moments of Fleetwood Mac’s Rumours.
Ambiance set, the ensuing nine tracks evince a similar restraint, where a low-key vibe is punctuated by flashes of gospel-esque drama. A lot of Valentine, Andrews' first album on her own Loose Future label, is recognisably rooted in country. “Cons & Clowns” has a Dolly Parton vibe. “Only the Best” is similarly slanted. “Everyone Wants to Feel Like You Do” generates thoughts of a yearning Tom Petty ballad. “Little Picture of a Butterfly” is very close to “Help me Make it Through the Night”.
Andrews has said Valentine stems from taking stock of a bleak period in her life, and that its musical touchstones are Big Star’s Third (the album also known as Sister Lovers), Fleetwood Mac’s Tusk and Lee Hazlewood – though it is hard to hear any of this in the resultant album. Lyrics are about disconnection, rejection and the difficulties of making connections. On “Best Friend”, she sings “Wish I had a best friend, someone to talk to, to tell my deepest thoughts to… conversations only we’d understand.” There is, clearly, a darkness at the core of Valentine, which is tellingly titled to induce reflections on an ideal, a possibly unattainable dream.
It’s impossible to escape the impression that another album is concealed within Valentine: one that’s less crafted, without the smooth edges – an edgier, more in-your-face experience. An album which could be an edge-of-the-seat experience. It’s in there but concealed by an inherent carefulness. Maybe the forthcoming live dates will inject an impulsiveness, a prickliness, a tension.
