LP5

He thrives in intimate surroundings, furnishing these songs with discreet and sometimes adventurous embellishments - drum machine, say - that enhance his message, rather than detract from it. [Apr 2020, p.26]

No doubt Moreland's already established songwriting skills are fully intact, but pushing on the sonic boundaries of the genre are what gives LP5 its edge.

Working with producer and percussionist Matt Pence, regular collaborator and multi-instrumentalist John Calvin Abney, and incorporating the angelic vocal harmonies of Bonnie Whitmore, Moreland has unearthed a sweet spot for himself, sonically. LP5 is textured, soft and gentle, and then rugged and dirty exactly where it needs to be

The ten songs here reveal that sometimes vulnerability conveys a greater strength than a show of force.

Moreland’s songs have long dwelled in the contested middle ground between doing the right thing and not being able to figure out what the right thing is. On LP5, he articulates what it feels like to get it, however briefly, and let go. And he doesn’t always need words to do so.

It’s true that pain has informed some of Moreland’s most wringing tracks, but he shows on LP5 that he’s capable of writing potent songs without the anguish that fueled his earlier work. That’s not to say these new songs are all gumdrops and sunshine, but it’s gratifying to hear an artist growing out of the framework that held up him at the start and drawing inspiration from new and different directions.

Moreland is honest and articulate as he tries to sort out his demons, and if this is a very different album for him, the songs are heartfelt and well-crafted, and the production by Matt Pence of Centro-Matic takes the songwriter to a different place with effective, moving results. Some of John Moreland's fans are likely to be surprised by LP5, but as an expression of his talent and range, it stands with his best work to date.