Joshua James
The Sun Is Always Brighter
Intelligent Noise

"So you say you want a new love song/One to trick your girlfriend
with," sings Joshua James. And then, in response to such a request
he adds, "I hope my little number will do."
Trust me, it does.
Armed with a boyish rasp that recalls Steve Forbert and a moody Nick
Drake-worthy introspection, James' debut The Sun Is Always Brighter
is quite a find. Filled with doleful ballads (the wonderful "Abbie
Martin") this Nebraska native (who now calls Utah home) sings about
relationships, politics, families, forests and all the other things
that crumble across America. Girded with observational insights that
seem to come from everyone from Walt Whitman to Paul Simon, James whispers
his way through each number with an astounding depth and grace. There
are mediations on drug addiction ("Lord, Devil and Him");
political ruminations ("Our Brother's Blood") and family tragedy
("FM Radio"), all delivered with raw poignancy. Meanwhile,
"Soul Of The Sea" has the hushed touch of Ray LaMontagne;
the punchy soul of "The New Love Song" is pitch-perfect and
"Geese" is a stirring environmental folk ballad.
What's so striking about The Sun Is Always Brighter is the lack
of ego and the sheer presence of such gentle, poetic power. Like Patti
Griffin or LaMontagne, James is one of those rare musicians who sings
of his open wounds and leaves us holding our own.
Glorious work.
Alex Green
