Brandi Carlile, The Firewatcher’s Daughter. Album Review.

Liverpool Sound and Vision Rating 9/10

There is something in Brandi Carlile’s voice that just resonates with an abiding truth, something that burns equally with fire, brimstone and rage and yet could hold the gentlest of whispers of love and concern in the palm of a hand as if it was a butterfly being caressed by a tranquil breeze. That juxtaposition between light and the shadow, one cannot live without the other it seems and in her new release, The Firewatcher’s Daughter; that truth is solid, without fear and as compulsive a listen as you could hope for.

Brandi Carlile’s music holds no fear because arguably the artist herself has no fear or trepidation, certainly not when it comes to putting down her thoughts on paper and allowing the world to pick over them one song at a time. In this respect, what she places for before the fans and cynics is the very best of truths as she has nothing at all to hide behind and nothing to apologise for; all there is life in its purest, most near perfect form.

The Firewatcher’s Daughter is that good old fashioned hybrid of Country and Rock but with some astounding lyrical elements that would not be out of place in high quality poetry. Songs such as The Eye and the dangerous grace of Alibi play with form that any poet would give their hind teeth and possibly all their scraps of paper that fall without majesty onto the floor beneath their desk. For majesty is what Ms. Carlile presents in this album, not a sense of regality or pomp but sheer magnificence of spirit and an unstoppable, untameable dignity.

Aside from The Eye and Alibi, the songs The Things I Regret, The Stranger At My Door and the superb album closer, Murder In The City, all carry a graciousness of determined sense of living, breathing and spawning reality and candid fact.

If Ms. Carlile has ever been better than she is on The Firewatcher’s Daughter then it must be down to hitherto unheard appreciation, for this album arguably encapsulates her style and lyrical sincerity.

Ian D. Hall