One of the few musicians with a voice that truly stands out from the crowd and begs to be heard is Beth Hart. Her singing originates from deep within her spirit and is performed in a way that creates a visceral and frequently cerebral experience.
She is a lady who has occasionally lived on the edge, and her most recent album, You Still Got Me, is a collection of songs that are primarily autobiographical and expose all of her lived experience. She has even recruited two co-conspirators who have the same smokey back-bar tough persona—Slash and Eric Gales.
She exudes a sinister charm as a performer and songwriter, which frequently manifests as a femme fatale persona but is also equally contrasted with a fragility and vulnerability. Because of her “complexity of being,” her admirers are drawn to her and trust her because they know that what they see (and hear) is what they receive. Knowing that she can use what some may consider her shortcomings as a form of catharsis and eventually transform them into strengths is also energizing.
Her vocal prowess propels her into the exclusive realm occupied by artists such as Susan Tedeschi, Etta James, and Grace Slick; she is soulful but also possesses a power and control that, when used by these exceptional vocalists, can express the full range of emotions. The album even included a song called Machine Gun Vibrato, which explains one of her best vocal skills (“But I can’t help it, It’s just the way that I roll, Machine gun vibrato, It’s all that I know”).
The singer’s range is evident as she showcases her skills on country/rockabilly vibes (Wanna Be Big, Bad Johnny Cash), sultry jazz-tinged ballads (Drunk On Valentine), and outright rockers. The title tune, which is a heartfelt ode to her spouse who has supported her through good times and bad, demonstrates her ease around a lovely ballad.
The album’s excellent musicianship throughout and Hart’s ability to give each band member their day to shine are two other noteworthy aspects. Randy Flowers’ amazing solo on Don’t Call the Police and the band’s overall (Tom) Waitsian musicianship on Never Underestimate A Gal are the best examples of this.