ALBUM REVIEW: John R. Miller Reflects Real Life on ‘Heat Comes Down’
Corbie Hill
Posted On October 3, 2023
Some songwriters write short stories. Some write anthems. Some write life itself.
“My friend had a Twin / I had some old no-name Strat,” John R. Miller sings on the gentle, finger-picked “Basements” on his new album, Heat Comes Down. “Our drummer’s dad was cool / he let us come over and practice.” In four verses he charts the universal, personal journey of countless people who picked up a guitar and took off after a dream, only to land in middle age with an instrument they can play the hell out of, decades’ worth of songs, and nothing left to say. “You can string up a slab of pine / with some 40-watt 110,” Miller sings in the concluding verse. “I used to be somebody / I just don’t remember when.”
It’s direct and unadorned, more conversational than poetic, and peppered with guitarist jargon that in this case is a grounding, believable detail. And while “Basements” is a standout track on Heat Comes Down for those of us who thought we could be rock musicians when we grew up (guilty … ), it’s just one cut on a record that reveals its facets with time. Miller, a West Virginia-raised songwriter with Billy Joe Shaver’s lack of airs and Brent Cobb’s casual amble, has given us a collection of approachable, true Americana songs with Heat Comes Down.
“Every peaceful valley’s been found / and the promised land was mineral rich,” Miller sings on
the chorus of “Dollar Store Tents.” Melodically and thematically, this fiddle-driven tune would not be out of place on Springsteen’s The Ghost of Tom Joad. Miller channels John Prine on “Smokestacks on the Skyline” and nods to Hayes Carll’s “KMAG YOYO” and Bob Dylan’s “Subterranean Homesick Blues” on the absurd and enjoyable “Conspiracies, Cults & UFOs.”
“I can see you through a summer lens / practicing your violin,” Miller sings on “Summer Lens.” “Extra-large Dead Kennedys T-shirt / uncut grass and fair weather friends.” His old memories aren’t any of ours, true, but they’re painted accurately enough to drive the chorus home. “Memories fade as that old black ribbon unwinds,” Miller laments. “No one ever says ‘So long forever’ / even if it’s gonna be the last time.” He’s worn down by time but not too defeated to look back fondly.
In that moment, we’re with him. The story he tells is true, and our own true stories make us feel the same way.
John R. Miller’s Heat Comes Down is out Oct. 6 on Rounder Records.
