Alabama Shakes opens the title track of its second album, “Sound & Color” (April 21, 2015), with a melodic chime sequence. A kick drum slinks its way into the track and then powerhouse lead singer Brittany Howard breathes life into the song with her voice that sounds like a blend of poblano chiles and “Tupelo Honey” (1971). The track “Sound & Color” is sensual and repetitive, proving to be an easy introduction, a soft hello before the album kicks into high amped, no-holds-barred wild energy.
With 2012’s “Boys and Girls,” Alabama Shakes established itself as a new, high-energy band to watch, with its near-retro feel of old-school Southern rock, rockabilly and soul. Now, on “Sound & Color,” the band is simultaneously moving away from and toward those genre tropes, in a beautiful melange of old and new schools of music.
On the new album’s third track, complete with electric guitars and Howard’s wails, “Don’t Wanna Fight” blends soul and Southern rock. The album’s trademark, however, is its relentless reexamination of what it means to be “Southern rock.” The band is distinctly Southern, as evidenced in both its origins, as described by a feature in the New York Times -- it hails from the small town of Athens, Ala. -- and its evident musical inspirations, drawing from Stevie Ray Vaughan, Little Richard and the Allman Brothers Band, to name a few. Yet the four-member group combines its sound with a modern mindfulness, with pop infusions and a 21st century self-awareness of the nostalgia that may have drawn fans to them in the first place. In a feature by NPR’s Ann Powers, the band is referred to as “freaks ... Southern freaks are the best kind of freaks,” in an overwhelmingly positive tone, and it is this strange combination of outsider/insider musicality that allows the listener to step inside the unique world of Alabama Shakes. The band opens up a carnival of sound, throwing in unexpected high notes, guitar solos and emotional wails at the drop of a hat. The listener, as though looking into a funhouse mirror, never quite knows what to expect; however, the distortions of sound from typical Southern rock tropes, while retaining a sensibility of the band’s roots, are what make "Sound and Color" a modern force.
Howard herself is what sets the band apart. With a trademark wail and untamed frenetic energy and personality, she draws comparisons to James Brown; while both are Southern singers with larger-than-life personalities, Howard’s sound infuses elements of soul, rock, funk, blues and pop, her voice taking on a distinct new edge. With a falsetto that teeters just on the edge of breaking, Howard’s voice captivates, locking the listeners in rapt attention.
On “Future People,” her voice is on full display. Set against a backdrop of near-metallic bass, a grinding accent to Howard’s soulful cries, her croons and screams are a near-chaotic balance that picks its way across landscapes painted by the instrumentation of lyrics of the band. A similar effect is taken on the melodic “Dunes,” as Howard’s voice creeps and retreats, asserts with an aggressive, punctuated singing style and then shrinks back into near-whispers.
“Gimme All Your Love” is likely the album’s best song, a renaissance track that spans decades of Southern rock in the span of four minutes and three seconds. Here, Howard is a volcano, a boiling pot of water, a loaded rifle, just barely controlling her capacity to explode, leaving listeners with a lingering feeling after every note that the next will be an eruption of sound. And when she does break out that wail, there is no emotion left unfelt. On display is an entire spectrum of heartbreak and longing, desire and fear -- her voice is unmatched in its depth, her presence is unequivocal and unashamed. The lyrics of the piece match the band’s general feeling of uniqueness, its inability to be pigeonholed to a genre, a geographical region, a time period. “So tell me what you wanna do / You say the world, it doesn't fit with you / Why don't you talk to me for just a little while? / I can only try to make it right.” The world of past Southern rock may not fit the band, but the band is finding its own space with the unique sound.
“This Feeling” is a delicate love song, poignant and careful, a lover softly confessing affections. Howard oozes out desire, but in more restrained sections, her wail is toned down, and the piece works in the lower registers of tonality and volume for the band, a beautiful compliment to the high-voltage pieces before and after it.
The next three tracks bring in guitars for distinctly rock-centric pieces.
“Guess Who” picks along fast guitars with a metronomic pacing as Howard blends the lines of notes, blurring one word into another in narrative lyrics. “The Greatest” paints a quick picture of itself as a rock anthem, with electric guitars fleshing out a piercing portrait of self-love and empowerment while Howard growls and chirps. “Shoegaze” dizzies with its instrumentation, while Howard slows her pace to a deliberate speak-sing style that veers away from the sheer force of other tracks but allows the album to explore different musical territory.
As the album closes with “Over My Head,” a track with layered soft but insistent vocals, pianos and slow drums ease listeners back into the real world, away from the magical realm that Alabama Shakes has created on “Sound & Color.”
Combining the powerhouse dynamic vocals of Brittany Howard with the band’s mindfulness of Southern rock roots and present pop and rock contemporaries, Alabama Shakes proves with “Sound & Color” that it is not only one of the smartest modern bands -- it is one of the most innovative.
