ALBUM REVIEW: Landon Lloyd Miller Unleashes Emotion on ‘Light Shines Through’

As a favor to overly delicate ears, Landon Lloyd Miller’s pithy solo debut should come with an advisory that reads, “Warning: Contents Under Pressure.” Untethered from his likable roots band, The Wall Chargers, the Louisiana native delivers a striking portrayal of a man desperate to unburden his fiery soul, yet deathly afraid of overstaying his welcome. Light Shines Through unleashes nine stormy tracks in under a half-hour, racing from jangly, down-home rockers to searing, late-night ballads, making quick stops in between to offer a concise survey of Americana diversity. If Miller insists on keeping his stylistic options open, his anxious yet commanding voice, suggesting a scruffier cousin of Nathaniel Rateliff, ties everything together in compelling fashion.

While the literal meaning of Miller’s lyrics can be fuzzy, the intent usually comes through loud and clear, whether he’s fending off despair or grasping at ecstasy. Highlighted by Gavin McCoy’s swirling organ fills — full-fledged solos are largely absent from this urgent set — the stomping “Light Is Growing” kicks off the album on an upbeat note, as a breathless Miller marvels at “shooting stars on the interstate,” adding, “The fireworks lit up your face.”

Elsewhere, a hunger for connection animates Light Shines Through, although satisfaction proves elusive. Addressing an absent parent, or perhaps a long-lost lover, he begins the beautiful “Bluebonnet” by sighing, “You were only lying / When you said why you’d never go,” later adding softly, “It’s not alright / The lonely life.” Framed by McCoy’s melancholy piano, “String My Love Down” finds Miller at his tortured best, asking, “Are you really you / Or someone else?” Joe Cocker could have excelled on this stark lament.

Miller has a head full of ideas, which gives Light Shines Through the mercurial quality of a fever dream marked by flurries of poetry and dramatic shifts in the music. Beginning with a host of ghostly voices, “Sunglasses” escalates to a clattering rant as he growls, “If your god is dead / Then why the heavy head?,” suggesting a crisis of faith. The lovely “Tread Lightly” blossoms into a dreamy anthem to revisit loss: “You can tell me that you won’t go / But I always knew you would die.”

This rocky spiritual journey can be exhausting, as he acknowledges on “Landslide” when he murmurs, “Tell me where to rest / I’ll put my head down,” to the strains of homespun harmonica. Closing with the cello-and-piano baroque pop of the lilting title track, Light Shines Through circles back to the tentative hope of “Light Is Growing” and sees him “wondering what this life is all about.” Without promising tidy conclusions, Landon Lloyd Miller has made a provocative start, hopefully with more to follow.