Nickel Creek – This Side

If you’re of a mind to stir up a little controversy among die-hard bluegrass followers, just mention Nickel Creek; if you don’t hear “that ain’t bluegrass” or “that’s bluegrass lite,” you’re hanging with an unusual crowd. Their videos may do well on CMT, their album may have gone gold, and IBMA awards may sit on their mantelpieces, but the youthful trio are, in some circles, more likely to be slammed than to be praised.

None of that’s likely to change with their new album. In fact, This Side may provoke even more antipathy, for it is a snapshot that shows the fast-moving group in territory even further removed from their bluegrass roots than its predecessor. Yet it also shows a commitment to artistic vision that, regardless of one’s taste, ought to earn at least a grudging respect — and for those who have room in that taste for winsome vocals, lush textures and incomparable musicianship, a lot more than that.

Though they began with a heavy emphasis on instrumental compositions, Nickel Creek has metamorphosed into a predominantly vocal group, and the opening “Smoothie Song”, with its jagged, funky rhythms and ensemble passages, is the album’s lone instrumental. Half the songs were written or co-written by the band members (Chris Thile and siblings Sara and Sean Watkins), and they provide strong evidence of a growing sophistication and individual maturity in compositional skill and inspiration, if not in lyric themes. These are very far from roots music indeed, with their wandering melodies, complex chords and uneven rhythms, but even the weakest has its engaging twists and memorable moments.

With Alison Krauss producing once again, Nickel Creek brings one of its greatest strengths — an eager willingness to use whatever sonorities strike them as appropriate to a particular song — to the fore. Little touches, many of them used only once in the course of the album, provide constant surprises without detracting from the album’s consistent sound and feel, reinforcing the feeling that each cut has been composed from start to finish, rather than having variety imposed on an essentially repetitive verse-chorus structure.

This Side, then, represents a sizable step forward for Nickel Creek, but one that goes down the path pointed to by their earlier work — a cover of Pavement’s “Spit On A Stranger” notwithstanding. It won’t likely win them new fans among those who didn’t like their last one, but it ought to win them plenty elsewhere.