Ray LaMontagne spent part of his childhood living in a chicken coop. He worked in a shoe factory following high school. Now he's recording with Ethan Johns, son of legendary recording engineer and producer Glyn Johns. Oh, the life of a rock star.
Growing up without a father, LaMontagne crossed and re-crossed the country with his mother and siblings, living in cars, tents, backyards, a Tennessee cinderblock shell and the poultry dwelling. When his life failed to improve upon leaving his family, LaMontagne found himself slipping. And then Stephen Stills came to the rescue.
The singer/songwriter heard Stills' "Treetop Flyer" on the radio and his life was changed forever. He quit his job, decided he wanted to sing and began incessantly listening to Bob Dylan, Joni Mitchell and Neil Young. Several years later the governor of Maine witnessed one of LaMontagne's local performances and promptly took him to a Willie Nelson concert, eventually helping him acquire a deal at Chrysalis Music Publishing. Chrysalis set LaMontagne up with Johns, the two recorded Trouble and LaMontagne was signed to RCA Records.
LaMontagne's rise to stardom has been anything but normal.
And Trouble perfectly showcases the life of a man who has been through it all.
In a ragged, breathy Van Morrison-esque voice, LaMontagne opens the album with "Trouble/Been doggin' my soul since the day I was born."
The overlying theme on the record is not surprisingly one of hard love and loss — typical subject matters and perhaps typical lyrics — "But everything I have to give I'll give to you"— but LaMontagne pours so much emotion into each track that it almost doesn't matter what he's saying. However, he's not lacking lyrically strong statements altogether.
The upbeat "How Come" features some sizzling electric from Johns and words to match the pace: "I said how come/I can't tell/The free world/From living hell." And "Narrow Escape" takes an interesting narrative approach, telling a tragic Western tale of lost love.
"Hannah" receives a guest treatment from Nickel Creek's Sara Watkins, and her forlorn fiddle accompanying vocals smoothly mesh with LaMontagne's smoky sound and the chorus — "I'll lay down this bottle of wine/If you'll just be kind to me."
LaMontagne vocally achieves a sound that you just can't find today. He manages to shake that generic singer-songwriter tone and finds something all his own. With trembling vocals — particularly on the aching "Burn" — LaMontagne has a voice that is calming, soothing, sobering and strangely perfect for film soundtracks.
At the rate he's going, it wouldn't be surprising if LaMontagne ends up with the presidency, or at least, a promising career with a few more solid albums.