ALBUM REVIEW: William Clark Green Offers Solid, If Slightly Predictable, Tunes on ‘Baker Hotel’

Over the course of five albums, William Clark Green has created a notable body of work, mixing outlaw and mainstream country sounds. His lyrics often address the painful side of romance, the challenges of day-to-day life, and the pluses and minuses of hard drinking. Vocal performances are equally roadhouse- and stadium-friendly, reflecting Green’s attunement to “pure country” as well as the crossover equations that, at least since the 1990s, have transformed Nashville into a multi-billion-dollar hub.

With his sixth album, Baker Hotel, Green mines similar audial and lyrical templates. “Feel Alive” is about being boxed in and needing a break from one’s life. “I refuse to have one foot in the grave,” Green sings, frustrated with his routines and responsibilities. “Gun to Your Head” is an angry letter of sorts to an ex-lover who, from his perspective, never gave him the benefit of the doubt.

“Anymore” is a somewhat similar dissection of a problematic relationship, each person doing their best to satisfy the other, with unfortunate results (this couple would really benefit from reading Gary Chapman’s The Five Love Languages). Unlike “Gun to Your Head,” on which Green essentially vents, “Anymore” shows him remaining as level-headed as possible and mostly steering clear of blame. The title track is a mock-horror tale, replete with carnivalesque sounds and Halloween-ready backup vocals. The stylistic and accentual variations are welcome, even if the tune occasionally occurs as a campy riff on a Tom Waits song.

“I tried to hide all the bad times with the good times,” Green offers on “Getting Drunk,” acknowledging an over-reliance on alcohol. The stripped-down approach works well, giving Green’s voice, which often seems cramped in more instrumentally busy contexts, space to unfurl and resonate. “All You Got” again focuses on relational issues. The Motown-inflected background vocals and chorus line are catchy, if a little predictable. The possibly Todd Snider-inspired “Best of Friends” is Green’s statement of appreciation for his fave compadre, with whom he drinks, processes things he can’t talk about with others, and, on a few occasions, comes close to fighting.

“Leave Me Alone” is a snapshot of cognitive dissonance, Green depicting how he debates with himself, vacillating between doubt and confidence, confusion and clarity. “This damn thing between my ears / keeps getting in the way,” Green sings, lamenting the constant chatter in his mind. “Me, Her and You,” the album’s high point and closer, recalls Jamey Johnson circa Guitar Song, a moving and well-scripted confession about being with your current partner while missing and fantasizing about an ex.

Green is a descriptive and pop-informed songwriter. As a singer, he’s proficient, though his voice isn’t necessarily defined by a signature tone or timbre. While Baker Hotel is a well-written and well-performed album, some tracks feel a little formulaic or devoid of urgency. That said, there are others, particularly the tunes that lean toward more minimal instrumentation, that pack a fairly mean punch.