To hear Beth Hart’s music is to be acquainted with her. Her songwriting has a level of urgency that goes beyond merely digesting complicated emotions, as she pours her experiences into songs that capture the everyday emotional roller coaster of living with bipolar disorder in a world that is becoming more and more tumultuous. On this exhilarating record, music feels more important to her than ever.
Hart made the decision to put her mental well-being ahead of promoting her eleventh album, “You Still Got Me.” In actuality, she didn’t need to do any interviews to explain the motivations behind it because its beautiful melodies perfectly capture what we need to know and comprehend.
Saviour With A Razor, which features Slash’s howling guitar, sounds almost exactly like his 1995 Snakepit song “It’s Five O’ Clock Somewhere.”
That is, if he and Alice Cooper had worked together on that record. It’s a powerful way to start an album that skillfully strikes a balance between personal empowerment and an appreciation of the immeasurable worth of support networks.
Every song here radiates intensity, whether it’s from being angry, distraught, vulnerable, or elated. Hart’s extensive musical vocabulary, combined with Kevin Shirley’s cinematic production and the charming instrumental flourishes of the band he’s put together, allows her to paint a wide range of diverse emotions with skillful brushstrokes.
Despite providing a flurry of diverse moods, Hart’s presence, her once-in-a-generation voice, and excellent composition make everything come together. Drunk On Valentine’s moving story of love revives the sunset romance of early Tom Waits, while Suga N’ My Bowl, which features Eric Gales’ incredibly amazing guitar work, is Deep Purple’s attempt to outshine Led Zeppelin. Desire to Be Extremely Negative Pimp Like That is a mesmerizing, ominous version of Nina Simone, while Johnny Cash is a fantastic aspirational country romp.
Never Underestimate A Gal’s lively Parisian jazz riffs, which rewrite the lyrics of Nick Cave and Kylie Minogue’s Where The Wild Roses Grow, may sound lighthearted, but they tell an allegorical story of regaining your strength from an almost insurmountable enemy. Written about George Floyd’s death, Don’t Call the Police is a terrifying collision of trauma and simmering rage that broadens the story’s focus to address the singer’s conflicted feelings about contemporary America and the sense of being let down by those who are supposed to protect you.
Hart is undoubtedly a realist. She is aware that there will never be a Hollywood ending and that life will always be difficult. However, she uses loneliness and gloom to find beauty and connection throughout this album. Because of this, Machine Gun Vibrato doesn’t end on a happy note. Instead, it finds her storming into the dark, brandishing a flaming sword to light the way.