BOB SUMNER : SINGS WASTED LOVE SONGS

BOB SUMNER : SINGS WASTED LOVE SONGS

Riverbed
All Your Dead Things
A Thousand Horses
New York City
Comin' Around
Worn Down Boy
Rosalee
My Old Friend
Ticket To Ride

Label : Factor

Release Date : January 25, 2019

Length : 35:55

Review (Americana UK) : Bob Sumner is used to rocking out with his brother as one half of the Sumner Brothers, but this debut solo release finds him in a more reflective mood. The folk-based Americana of ‘Wasted Love Songs’ covers the classic themes of love, loss, loneliness and being worn down by the world. Although that sounds a little bleak, these mature narratives are made palatable by arresting imagery, fine musicality and sophisticated song writing craft. It’s a thing of beauty. Throughout the album, Sumner expertly blends classic acoustic instrumentation with good rhythms, evident in the opening track, ‘Riverbed’, which sets the tone for the album. It starts with a strong beat before the acoustic guitar and keys introduce Sumner’s effortless, understated vocal. The intimate poetry of the lyrics turns this song into a hymn for perfect imperfect love. ‘Riverbed’ sets the tone for the record and Sumner doesn’t deviate much from this blueprint in terms of style, instrumentation or pace. In some albums, lack of variation can be a flaw but here, thanks to the quality of the song writing, the result is simply a consistent mood, ensuring that this is an album to be enjoyed in its entirety, a coherent piece of art that works as a whole without sonic or emotional distractions. Of course, with repeated listens, the subtle variations become apparent. ‘Riverbed’ is followed by the more traditional, finger-picking sound of ‘All Your Dead Things,’ which introduces the character of Rosalee and her dead-end relationships; she returns later in the album with a song named for her. It is full of vivid images, such as the heart-shaped rocks and stones Rosalee collects. Sumner’s poetic flair continues in ‘A Thousand Horses,’ in which he sings: “The running of a thousand horses, tearing the prairies apart / Is but a murmur and a whisper compared to the beating of my heart.” Like many of the songs, it is underpinned by gentle layers of instrumentation, expertly produced by Erik P.H. Nielson, who blends organ, piano, pedal steel, strings, drums, bass and synths throughout the album to create a deep, full sound. Up next is ‘New York City.’ There have been so many songs about the Big Apple that it takes something special to justify the song title. Sumner finds it in this album highlight, thanks to the beautiful melody and vocal and intelligent lyricism. The story of long-distance love is told through the eyes of both lovers with a clever switch of narrator halfway through the song. Sumner builds the song to a gentle climax; it is, perhaps, the best example of his sense of pace and timing and his ability to create and release narrative and musical tension. The contrasting follow-up is the more upbeat and radio-friendly ‘Comin’ Around.’ The remaining tracks all have plenty to offer and bear repeated listening. The album closes with the atmospheric vocal and delicate guitar picking of ‘Ticket to Ride,’ which follows the forlorn narratives of characters looking for a way out. Sumner’s gentle, refined voice has the quality of a storyteller and he has an ear for excellent vocal melody. Bob Sumner’s intention was to return to his folk-roots and create: “…an album that someone could just put on and unfold into.” On ‘Wasted Love Songs,’ he has succeeded in producing a set of timeless ballads.

Review (Ear To The Ground) : It’s hard to find country music that feels genuine, but Bob Sumner has put together a classy country album full of quality songs. If you’re a fan of the Rayland Baxter and Andrew Combs version of country music these days, you’ll love what Bob Sumner has to offer. Complete with quality guitar work, gently assuring lyricism, and a lush backing track, it’s a sound that puts what you hear on the radio to shame. Let’s dig into the tracks. “Riverbed,” the opener, will put you right down in your seat. It’s sweet, enchanting even, with the use of gentle electric guitar. I can’t help but think about Glenn Campbell with this one. I mean that as a sincere compliment, too. The quality vocal rides over the surface and the melody is just unconventional enough to make you pay attention. The second track “All Your Dead Things” has an old time folk narrative style, a bit like Kris Kristofferson. The crooning “Rosalee” line feels vintage in the best way possible. It’s an interesting heartache tune that invokes feelings of empathy more than pity. It works well. “New York City” has a Greenwich Village folk vibe to it. There’s an atmospheric quality to the backing track, but the lead vocal tells biographical dream of going to the big city. I imagine a lot of small town folks hope to make it to the big city to be with that special someone. It’s a common theme, developed well for the song. “Comin’ Around” has a nice southern rock meets folk music feel to it. Listeners might imagine this tune coming out in about 1975 with the tone on the guitars and the overall feeling. It’s one of my favorites on the album, with a nice clean presentation and folksy charm to the lyrics. It’s followed by “Worn Down Boy,” a track that feels more country than some of the others. It just feels like a tune you’d hear at an old honky tonk. It’s like got that slowed down two step sad song vibe down to perfection. “Rosalee” harkens back to a lyric from an earlier track on the album. I think it’s a pedal steel that’s filling the air with beautiful lush sounds on this track. The plaintive vocal combined with expressive strings feels like the Nashville Sound has been brought into the modern age. There’s a hat tip to the past, but it’s definitely an evolution. “Ticket to Ride” brings us home with an acoustic ballad that perfectly connects folk and country music. Somehow, despite so many quality tracks on the album, I think this one sneaks in as my favorite. It’s sad, focusing on death as an end to pain, but it just feels comfortably melancholic. This entire album is for fans of genuine country music. The evolution of this sound is fascinating. It goes against all the cliches of country music, showing a well thought and sincere lyricism. If you’re a fan of the heart of country music and can’t stand what’s on the radio, give this album a spin and let ole Bob Sumner right onto your front porch. You’ll be glad to hear this fella play.

Review (The Georgia Straight) : Beautiful as the city he calls home is, Bob Sumner figures there are places that might understand him in a way Vancouver never totally will. This hit him big time during a recent, by-all-accounts-blurry stint in Nashville, Tennessee. The White Rock–raised Sumner made the pilgrimage after attending a wedding—his sister’s—in Palm Springs. The side trip was partly for pleasure, and partly a reconnaissance mission. After years of making gold-standard country records as half of Vancouver’s the Sumner Brothers with his older brother Brian, the singer-guitarist has struck out on his own with a magnificent solo debut, Wasted Love Songs. What’s most impressive about the full-length is that it’s not another Sumner Brothers album—not that anyone would be complaining about that. “Brian has this thing where he likes to get pretty weird,” Sumner says, speaking from his East Van abode. “So our records can be pretty chaotic. I really love being pushed to do that. But I’m also such a junkie for melancholy ballads. I’m talking pretty extreme—98 percent of the time I’m listening to records with that kind of feel, stuff with typically a Townes Van Zandt kind of vibe.” Loaded with gorgeously downbeat vocals, dying-campfire guitar, and space-cowboy keyboard washes, Wasted Love Songs will be remembered as one of the great records of the year. From the plaintive, peyote-dusted “A Thousand Horses” to the ghostly “Ticket to Ride”, Sumner sets a mood and then sticks to it with an admirable determination. Forget Saturday punch-ups at the roadhouse, Wasted Love Songs is made for two hours past last call, when the only folks left are the bartender and nowhere-to-go regulars. Think Van Zandt hanging in the early hours with John Prine and post-Copperhead Road Steve Earle, which is another way of saying it’s not much like the work of someone from these parts. “I can’t be angry at Vancouver for not fully understanding where I’m coming from, ’cause it’s a pretty niche thing,” he says. “Like, Townes Van Zandt and Guy Clark are my heroes—why would anyone from Vancouver know who they are or understand them?” He left Nashville feeling that he locked onto something that’s missing from modern country—alternative or otherwise. “There’s shit music wherever you go,” he says. “I’d play a Guy Clark tune there in a bar, and some people wouldn’t know it. But the other side of the coin was that there were a lot of people who did get it. And that felt really good.” If you’ve ever drunk in a tavern, roadhouse, or grimy dive down South, you know everything is somehow different, starting with the incapacitating free pours. No one sits at a table when there’s a stool at the bar; jukeboxes always seem stocked by someone who knows Hank III is cooler than Hank II will ever be. And that makes Sumner question what he’s still doing in Vancouver. Whether he was sitting in front of a beer or in front of a mike in Nashville, he couldn’t help but feel like he was home. “I can’t believe it took me 15 years to realize this,” he says, “but, man, everything I’m into is from another place.” Heavenly as it was, though, he could see things easily going to hell. “I don’t think I would want to relocate there,” he says with a laugh. “After spending two weeks there, I realized I would be dead in three months if I stayed too long, 'cause I love drinking and smoking. It’s just too easy there.” It hasn’t, however, always been easy at home. Thanks to the Sumner Brothers, the singer-songwriter is regarded as one of Vancouver’s most stellar underground-country artists. That the duo largely continues to fly under the radar in Vancouver speaks volumes about the way art is treated in a city almost singularly focused on money. Still, leaving isn’t an option for Sumner. “I’m sure you can understand this,” he says. “Brian and I have been working so hard for so long, and we’re kind of like, ‘We’re born here, and we live here, so this is our city.’” While Wasted Love Songs is a solo record, Sumner is quick to note that he had help, starting with bassist-about-town Erik Nielsen, who proved invaluable in the producer’s chair. Brian was also on hand to provide input and feedback. But—unlike the dynamic in the Sumner Brothers—there was no disputing who was in charge. In the end Sumner had final say, the process teaching him that sometimes you have to declare yourself the boss. “There were tears, for real,” he says with a laugh, while politely declining to reveal who was shedding them. “This was the first time I was actually spending money in a studio—normally, we [the Sumner Brothers] will set up in a cabin. When you’re spending that kind of money, and you don’t actually have money—I’m a broke dude—there’s so much pressure. What if you spend $20,000, come out the other side, and just hate it? That makes tension super high.” The payoff, however, could not have been more worth it. If there’s a God—and she’s currently on her fourth bourbon in a sawdust-floor tavern somewhere in Nashville—Sumner will be getting plenty of rapturous attention in the months and years to come. And, yes, that includes in his hometown. “I’ve always wanted to make a record where you don’t have to skip a song,” he says. “The kind of record that you can put on, and nothing becomes offensive to your mood. That’s where this record came from. From doing this for so many years, I just had a batch of songs that worked really well together.”