Ray LaMontagne
Trouble

THE REVIEW

Tradunt...

They say that in 1999, Ray decided to leave Maine and a job in a factory to chase a dream: becoming a folksinger. It is also said that Ray made this decision suddenly, after hearing a song by Stephen Stills on the radio (Tree Top Flyer).
Now, I don't know if this story is true or not. Maybe it's the usual little fairy tale that the majors have the habit of prepackaging to weave a rich and fascinating image for the public around a new musician. My innate cynicism leads me to lean towards this hypothesis, although I would really like to believe it. However, in the end, it doesn't matter much, because what matters is that Ray managed to realize this dream, no matter how it originated.

Trouble (RCA-2004), his debut album, is the proof. It's a beautiful folk album that, despite the title, can be listened to serenely, without problems or excessive thoughts. And for me, this is already an important quality, because it's not easy at all to record this kind of album, without unnecessary frills, managing not to fall into absolute banality.
With this, I'm certainly not daring to say that Trouble is a masterpiece. Masterpieces are quite different and must stand the test of time. But nevertheless, it is a good debut work for this American folksinger. It is therefore "just" a pleasant album that can be enjoyed, thanks especially to his vocal qualities, being endowed with a charismatic voice, warm like a ray of sunshine and dense like honey, which perfectly matches a setting played on the balance of themes like pain, hope, melancholy, and naturally, love.
It may not have the vastness of Van Morrison, the depth of Bob Dylan, the charisma of Neil Young, or the stylistic refinement of John Martyn, but Ray LaMontagne possesses an important gift: naturalness. This is felt throughout the entire album, perhaps with the sole exception of the track "How Come," which loses spontaneity due to the presence of an electric guitar somewhat out of place. But it is perhaps the only misstep of a respectable and intelligent production by Ethan Johns - former producer of Ryan Adams and Kings of Leon. Respectful of the singer-songwriter's style, it doesn't add much to his voice accompanied by an acoustic guitar: a hint of strings in the background, a slight rhythm section, sometimes a second female voice, and the trick is done. This results in a fairly linear listen, without peaks, with its defined stylistic coherence.

It is, in short, the ideal album to listen to in the car on a Sunday afternoon while taking a trip with some friends, because it is the classic album that remains in the background, without disturbing anyone. But it will probably carve out its own space until one of the travelers says, "Nice album, who is it by?" And then you can surprise your unsuspecting travel mate by saying, "It's called Ray LaMontagne, you know he had a dream..."