Dare I say there’s an Alberta sound? I’ve spent much of my adult life writing about the effect Alberta’s geography has on its local music, more often in the unnecessarily circuitous language of academic jargon (see how I’ve already made this sentence more complicated than it needs to be? See that?) than in a regular ol’chatty style. But, for all I might be trying to convince my readers this is the case, I finally believe it myself with Jake Ian’s new album, It Don’t Really Matter Anymore.
Maybe I’m just influenced by his subject matter – lost characters, rural settings, and references to Alberta sights – or perhaps it’s the appearance of Alberta’s musical elite on the album — Jeremiah McDade, Grant Siemens, Shuyler Jansen — that make it familiar. To me, though, the opening track, “Summertime in a Lonesome Town”, has a sound that can be locked securely into an Alberta roots aesthetic. The harmonica part evokes a gentle breeze across open spaces, then the steel guitar takes over the same role. Short mandolin riffs add to the delicate playing, until the fiddle moves in to dominate the chorus; all a classic approach to arrangement found in Ian’s peers. Above it all, Ian sings in a warm voice. His delivery is friendly; he’s an accomplished singer without making you feel like you can’t join in, and backup vocalists add to the warmth with some well-placed harmonies.
Maybe we should expect this: Ian is from northern Alberta, and the places and people from his rural past populate his songs. Even his tour schedule privileges the country; tiny taverns and concert halls are the preferred backdrop for his narratives of plain folk.
Some of my favourites include “Black Black Dirt”, a tune that to some extent relies on dark country tropes, suggesting the ominous Wild West in its sparse beginning, echo, and slow build. It’s a contrast to lighter songs on the record, like the cheerful, organ-driven title track, or “Bunkhouse Blues”, a tune anchored by pleasant vocal harmonies and catchy, straightforward guitar strumming. “Hide the Guns” features some great picking on both mandolin and guitar; it could be an instrumental song on its own. The highlight for me is “68 Malibu”, which has that ethereal pedal steel sound that rarely populates country, but makes me like any song it appears on, regardless of lyrical content.
It Don’t Really Matter Anymore is an album deserving of close listening on good headphones. I say this because I’ve listened to it in my travels a lot, and the intricacies of the instrumental performances, Ian’s words, and Jansen’s production get lost in the bleed from external noise. Pour a drink and give it some concentration. The album, not the drink.
You can buy Ian’s latest, and all of his other albums on his website. He’s also playing a few Alberta dates in early July, so try to catch him if you’re in the area.
