It’s clear while listening to certain bands that they’re certainly adept at what they’re doing. However when musicians also make it clear that they’re actually having fun, and exercising their prolific prowess at the same time, the experience becomes all the more memorable.
That’s part of the allure that MohaviSoul brings to the table. Their new, self-titled album — which the band heralds as a change in their trajectory — is flush with attitude and engagement. Granted, much of that exuberance has to do with an allegiance to form. Bluegrass is, in itself, an irresistibly effusive genre, and it’s indicative of Mohavisoul’s ties to tradition that their delivery stays true to those timeless trappings. Yet more than that, certain songs — a cover of the 1920s-era classic, Prisoner’s Song, the easy lope of Full Circle, and the turbulent tale imagined in Old River Knows in particular — are so unabashedly effusive it’s almost as if the band simply disregards any preconceived boundaries in favor of making enthusiasm their real priority.
After all, how many outfits would find themselves inspired to pen an ode to a canine companion (Dog in the Middle) and not turn it into a tearjerker in the process? Or point out the need to plot one’s forward motion based on common sense alone (Hurry Up and Wait, Get Lucky Again)? Even when they take a momentary respite, as per the gentle waltz that defines their take on Fastball’s pop hit, The Way, they do so by incorporating a supple sway and a mandolin solo to liken it to an old-time serenade. Their cover of the SteelDrivers’ To Be Here Again shows both sentiment and sensitivity, as does their compelling version of the Dillard & Clark classic, With Care From Someone.
The band, made up of Randy Hanson (mandolin, vocals), Mark Miller (guitar, vocals), Jason Weiss (banjo, vocals), Daniel Sankey (fiddle, vocals), and Ben Bostwick (bass), doesn’t always focus on irony and anticipation, but when they do, they do so in a way that’s both subtle and serendipitous. A decided departure from Mohavisoul’s five previous albums, this particular effort allows for a subtle change in tone. Here again, their allegiance to certain archival origins is evident throughout, as borne out by the aforementioned Prisoner’s Song and the compelling closing track, Live and Let Live, a song that earned immortality once it was covered by Wiley Walker and Gene Sullivan in 1941, and Rose Maddox, Bill Monroe, and the Del McCoury Band later on..
With this eponymous effort, Mohavisoul can claim to have upped their game. As a result, it bodes well for all that will follow.
