As artists from the Jayhawks and the Black Crowes to Tom Petty and Tift Merritt have recognized, when you hire George Drakoulias as producer, you’re going to get produced. Which is a good thing as far as Rhett Miller’s second solo album is concerned, for the ornate embellishments and ambitious arrangements not only distinguish Miller’s work from that of the Old 97’s — the band he still fronts — they enhance his most ambitious and radio-ready music to date.
In contrast to the comparatively straightforward alt-country of the Old 97’s, The Believer relies on the tension of contrasts: propulsive guitars against synthesized strings, eternal innocence against hard-bitten experience, buoyant popcraft with a sardonic streak, the permanence and impermanence of love. Even the title of the album is a two-edged sword, a proclamation of faith amid a world that tests such belief at every turn.
With backing from pop/rock mainstays such as guitarist Jon Brion, keyboardist Patrick Warren and drummer Matt Chamberlain — and with yearning harmonies from the Jayhawks’ Gary Louris and a vocal duet with Rachel Yamagata on the evanescent “Fireflies” — the music fashioned by Miller and Drakoulias uses the studio as a sonic laboratory. The results conjure comparisons that extend from Dwight Twilley (“My Valentine”) to T. Rex (“Ain’t That Strange”), from David Bowie (“Meteor Shower”) to Elliott Smith (“Brand New Way”). The album revels in contradiction: The hardest-driving song here is titled “Delicate”, while material that on the surface appears to be a collection of love songs turns out to be an extended meditation on the passage of time.