SARAH SHOOK & THE DISARMERS : REVELATIONS

1. Revelations
2. You Don't Get To Tell Me
3. Motherfucker
4. Dogbane
5. Nightingale
6. Backsliders
7. Stone Door
8. Jane Doe
9. Give You All My Love
10. Criminal

Label : Thirty Tigers

Length : 37:19

Release Date : March 29, 2024

Review (AllMusic) : "You don't get to tell me how to feel," River Shook tells us in no uncertain terms in the second song on 2024's Revelations, the fourth LP from Sarah Shook & the Disarmers, and if one phrase can sum up the tone of the album (and Shook's work in general), that will do just fine. Shook has been fearlessly honest in their songs about life as a single mother, their struggles with drugs and alcohol, and coming out as genderqueer (which even in the relatively enlightened alt-country community is a bold step for a roots music artist), and on Revelations, Shook touches on their mental health issues with the same clarity and matter-of-fact honesty. They write songs about living a hard life, but it's from the perspective of someone who grew up in a time and place where lots of folks were dealing with their own struggles, and there's never a drop of self-pity in their songs, which makes their lyrics, written with the skill of an artist and the blunt frankness of someone sharing at a 12-step meeting, all the more effective. If Shook's vocals aren't always pretty, they know how to communicate their stories to others with the ring of truth, like a blend of Loretta Lynn and Chrissie Hynde after a pack of smokes. Shook produced Revelations, with Ian Schreier engineering, and the audio fits the music - it's straightforward and well-detailed without any necessary fuss, and the latest lineup of the Disarmers - Blake Tallent on guitar, Andrew Lambie on bass, Nick Larimore on pedal steel, and Jack Foster on drums - is among the strongest yet, with the keen emotions of country and the tough report of a solid roots rock band working side by side. There aren't a lot of people like River Shook in alt-country - or any other genre, for that matter - and they make their talent, honesty, and bravery into something powerful and moving on Revelations. If this isn't Shook's best album to date, it's very close.

Review (Written In Music) : Het kost countrypunker Sarah Shook een veelvoud aan ervaringsjaren om het leven weer op de rails te krijgen. Nightroamer bewaakt de spoken uit het verleden, gunt haar nachtmerries een plekje in dat bestaan en staat vooral bij bewustwording stil. Wil ze nog wel als Sarah Shook aangesproken worden? Ze identificeert zichzelf ondertussen met een totaal andere persoonlijkheid en distantieert zich van haar vroegere gewelddadige keuzes om het verdriet in troost te verdringen en te verdrinken. Doordat de alcohol en drugs afgezworen zijn en het geloof definitief op een zijspoor geplaatst wordt, ontstaat er ruimte en lucht in het hoofd van Sarah Shook. Ze geeft al langer aan dat geslacht niet echt relevant is en dat ze als een non-binaire persoon gezien wil worden. Daar past een andere naam bij, ze herdoopt zich tot het meer passende River Shook. Een verandering die zich ook in begeleidingsband The Disarmers doorzet. Het alt-country gezelschap bestaat tegenwoordig uit gitarist Blake Tallent, bassist Andrew Lambie, Jack Foster en Nick Larimore als extra pedal steel gitarist. Bij een naam als River Shook moet ik automatisch aan de vroeg overleden rebelse River Phoenix denken. Een dromerige romanticus, hartenveroveraar met een uitgesproken karakter. River Shook bezit deze mooie eigenschappen dus ook en verder valt River Shook naar onstuimigheid te herleiden, een in beweging zijnde waterweg die zich een eigen weg baant. Het zal wel te omslachtig zijn om de hele bandnaam aan te passen, al ontstaat er nu wel meer verwarring en onduidelijkheid. Spreek je het boegbeeld van Sarah Shook & The Disarmers nu aan als Sarah Shook of als het recent verworven alter ego River Shook? Om de eerder aangegeven redenen gaat mijn voorkeur dus ook naar River Shook uit. Revelations staat voor de betrekkelijkheid van het korte bestaan en richt zich vooral op de nabije toekomst. De milieu kritische Dogbane indiepop country gumt gedane zaken uit en kleurt deze opnieuw in. River Shook heeft het zware verleden achter zich gelaten en ademt tegenwoordig gelukzaligheid. Dat hier een minder geleefde country kant bij past en juist een meer luchtige popzijde op aansluit is begrijpelijk, en dat hoor je op alle fronten terug. Het Revelations titelstuk zit nog in de pijnlijke litteken depressies gevangen, en benadrukt hoe lastig het is om de dag te starten. Het is een kwestie van aangeleerde futloze gewoontes doorbreken, het licht trotseren en de duisternis verlaten. Niemand heeft het recht om te bepalen hoe jij je hoort te gedragen, hoe jij je moet voelen. Met het vrijgevochten You Don’t Get to Tell Me verzet River Shook zich tegen het etiketteren, het kortzichtige hokjes denken. Het heeft een typerende jaren negentig rauwheid. Eventjes is daar die veelzeggende aansluiting met feministische krachtvrouwen die dit tijdsbeeld domineren, singer-songwriters die wel degelijk iets te zeggen hebben, een verhaal vertellen. River Shook draagt dit ook in de werkwijze uit, logisch dat ze in deze fase geen bemoeienis tolereert en geen producer in de studio toelaat. Alles volgens het do it yourself principe. De actuele emanciperende Motherfucker countryrocker verzet zich tegen het uitbuiten in de muziekbranche. Op financieel gebied, het vervlakken van ideeën, het monddood maken van inspiraties, maar ook de vrouwelijke afhankelijkheid wordt aan de kaak gesteld. Het traag opbouwende bluesy Nightingale benadrukt nogmaals dat die vermoeiende vlucht uit de duisternis niet vanzelf gaat. Het primaire doel is om die vrijheid tegemoet te vliegen, maar je moet dan wel de nodige tegenslagen verwerken. Schimmige Backsliders muurschaduwen uit het verleden verleiden de vocalist en blijven River Shook achtervolgen. De terugval naar het foutieve zelfvertrouwen en het afscheid van het negatieve zelfbeeld dat je te lang als trouwe vriend beschouwt. Nick Larimore presenteert zich hier met zijn pedal steel gitaar als plaatsvervangende kameraad. Hij houdt die aandacht ook in de country klassieker Stone Door vast, al is het mij net te gewoontjes en te standaard. Jane Doe koppelt anonimiteit aan een persoon en is in principe voor iedereen te herleiden die zich hierin herkent en kansloos aan de zijlijn staat. In de stevige oprechte Give You All My Love bubblegum Americana hervindt de vocalist de liefde, al dreunt de luie Criminals countryfolk rock dan gemeen na. Accepteert de maatschappij deze wijze van houden wel, of zet de buitenwereld haar juist als een misdadiger neer. River Shook moet zich genoodzaakt onder het uitschot scharen, een getekende einzelgänger zonder duidelijk toekomstperspectief. Revelations is de doorstart naar nog te ontdekken zekerheden, al zal de weg daar heen nog de nodige tegenslagen kruisen.

Review (Paste Magazine) : To say that Revelations, the latest record from Sarah Shook & The Disarmers, is a product of survival would be an understatement. Written and recorded in the aftermath of getting sober and receiving a dual diagnosis of ADHD and borderline ASD during the pandemic, Revelations sounds like the kind of album somebody who’s drunk their weight a couple thousand times over and lived to see tomorrow might make. Disarmers bandleader River Shook is many things—nonbinary, atheist, a single parent—and all of that takes a delicate and attentive center-stage on Revelations. With their band—Blake Tallent, Jake Foster, Andrew Lambie and Nick Larimore—they have crafted what is the best record of their career thus far. Revelations is confident and revels in its plainspoken clarity. Musically, it’s an alt-country zenith. The Disarmers’ last album, 2022’s Nightroamer, was, as Paste critic Annie Parnell aptly put it, a “sprawling reckoning” staring deep into the void of “a deep-seated faith.” This time around, Revelations finds Shook and their bandmates tightening up and performing instinctive solos with a flourishing, raw-hemmed edge—all while restoring a life through memory in the present. It’s not a leveling out, it’s a level up for the North Carolinians. With the title-track breaking the whole record open, the band stares down the barrel of hard-won truths and time-worn circumstances. “Revelations” could be about exhaustion or societal expectations, but the clearest read is that it’s a song about the intersection of religion and mental illness and how both of those ropes tug at the philosophies of birthright. “I been in the state that I’m in since the day of my birth,” River sings, against a potent bevy of bluesy guitar, heavy toms and bass. “New beginnin’s, I’m done listenin’ when the old guard tells me what my word is worth. Hey, baby, I’m barely gettin’ through each day.” In a recent New York Times profile, River spoke about their life after moving to North Carolina from Western New York with their family as a teenager. “I went from 0 to 100, from having been kissed once to having sex to having a threesome the next night,” they said. “And then I married a guy I met on MySpace three weeks later and got pregnant two months later. Upending everything my parents held dear was an act of self-preservation, because their belief system taught me I could not be myself.” Across Revelations, River is meticulous in what stories they give us. “Dogbane” rears its head vibrantly, as they deliver a pastoral of lucidity, admonishing a life spent on your knees and questioning if there’s a difference between flowers and the weeds around them. “Well it’s lookin’ like the end of days / If it ain’t underwater, it’s ablaze / And we got hope and heartache in each gaze,” River bemoans in a warble that scratches at a yodel, trading guitar riffs with Tallent and tracing the fireworks of Larimore’s pedal steel. On “Backsliders,” River pays tribute to their fellow wrong-turners with a generous love song glazed with retrospect. “Now I got one foot out the door and you’re still gettin’ dressed,” they sing. “Hate I can’t say no as easily as you say yes, I’m a real piece of shit and you’re a vixen in a dress.” The track is queer as all get-out, told empathetically from the perspective of someone who’s hurdled enough roadblocks in their life to sing with such bare-chested vulnerability. Larimore’s pedal steel is again a highlight here, but this time paired with Tallent’s acoustic guitar chugging along to River’s vocal phrasings. When the multi-dimensional “Jane Doe” kicks in, River sings about a break-up disguised as a crime scene, deploring that “when you see me on the street, you’re just glad it ain’t you dyin’ out in the cold on dead man’s curve. You tell yourself little white lies, look me dead in the eye and say to me I got what I deserved.” The song patiently builds into a roaring, anthemic benchmark—River’s best-tracked singing performance of their career thus far—split open with a guitar solo that’ll make any venue room spin. Don’t overlook Foster’s drumming here, either. He’s the metronome of Revelations, and his pounding on “Jane Doe” is a particularly special feat. Revelations gets angry, too. “Motherfucker” is a snearing lament of betrayal and bitterness, as River doesn’t mince words, declaring that “when I die and split hell wide, gonna be some sight to see and I’ll gladly burn forever when you’re six circles deeper than me.” The arrangement begins in the orbit of soft, featherlight acoustics before kicking it up a notch into a real rabble-rousing jaunt of pedal steel. River’s vocals coil into glimpses of a higher-register, flirting with a falsetto but never fully giving themselves away. That restraint fades on “You Don’t Get to Tell Me,” as they question the authority of a land of suffering governed by a higher-being across a romping, cut-and-dry country-rock track, singing “We don’t need no god to feed each other good.” Led by River’s self-production, Revelations glows because of its cohesiveness. The Disarmers don’t reinvent the wheel here, nor did they ever need to. The grandiosity is firmly embedded in the talent, as River and their band inject some serious punk rock attitudes into a well-worn infrastructure of venerable country tunes. The guitar tones are crisp, the pedal steel sounds like a million bucks. But, more than ever, River takes us to a place of reclamation and shows us the heart of what’s at stake. Revelations is an outlaw record that considers what it means to be a trans Southerner during a capitalist crisis. It’s a project that is as terminally modern as it is mythically ageless. What gleams at the album’s core is a demand for kindness towards the time it takes to bring joy, clarity and identity into a lifetime. River Shook may be knocking on the door of their 40s, but Revelations sounds like their time here with us has only just begun.

Review (Americana Highways) : Sarah Shook & the Disarmers have long been one of my favorite ways to spend a night out. Their shows at Denver’s hi-dive, in particular, have always been a perfect mix of great, loud cowpunk, rapt audiences and excellent people-watching – everything you want in a club show. Bandleader River Shook has long sought to capture that intensity, and that clarity of purpose, on the band’s very-good-but-not-quite-amazing records. On their new album, Revelations, Shook has grabbed the producer reins and paired their raw vision with what is by far the best set of songs they’ve written, giving this excellent live band an absolute must-own record. Revelations’ title track pairs pedal steel and twangy electric guitar with an early 80s U2 bass-and-drum groove as Shook considers not only their own mental health – “Black cloud followin’ me around, little storm in my head” – but the difficulty of managing it in a strictly for-profit society – “Hey baby I’m barely gettin’ through each day/Breakin’ my back for a pittance paid.” This struggle is real enough for anyone, but ever more so for a touring band in post-pandemic 2024 (a constant reminder to listeners – buy music, buy T-shirts, buy merch). The next song, “You Don’t Get to Tell Me,” is a slice of 90s alt-rock that finds Shook at their truculent, authority-flaunting best, spitting out a challenge to pious B.S. – “We don’t need no god to feed each other good.” Shook’s life – as an artist, as a queer person in the South – has run them across all manner of bad actors. The fast country shuffle of the in-your-face “Motherfucker” leaves no doubt as to how Shook feels about creeps, whether they be barflies or record execs – “Old man actin’ like he didn’t know better” – but finds bitter, Dante-esque satisfaction in knowing how it’ll all work out – “When I die and split hell wide open gonna be some sight to see/And I’ll gladly burn forever knowin’ you’re stories deeper than me.” The demons are a little less obvious (and a little more internal) in “Backsliders,” a steely lament that any service industry worker (as Shook was) will know – the hazards of coupling with coworkers: “Hate I can’t say no as easily as you say yes/I’m a real piece of shit and you’re a vixen in a dress.” Turns out, it’s tough to avoid temptation when it’s right there. Every single day. Brief flashbacks like “Backsliders” help fill in the picture as to where Shook finds themself now – unapologetically queer, and more than a little pissed off about belligerent human obstacles. Album capper “Criminal” is a gothic punk country expression of self, with Shook plaintively singing “If lovin’ you will always be a crime/I will always be a criminal.” Like Shook and their band’s music, it’s simple and free of frills or justification – like it, or get out. Even with all of the changes they’ve been through, Shook is still as punk as punk gets. Song I Can’t Wait to Hear Live: “Jane Doe” – in addition to Shook leveling up their songwriting, Revelations is also notable for the best singing they’ve put to record, and this determined break-up song is the prettiest of the bunch. Revelations was produced by River Shook, engineered and mixed by Ian Schreier and mastered by Brent Lambert. All songs written by Shook. Musicians on the album include Shook (vocals, rhythm and electric guitar), Blake Tallent (electric and acoustic guitar), Jack Foster (drums, percussion), Andrew Lambie (bass) and Nick Larimore (pedal steel).