Josh Ritter Loves His Words, and His Notes

Sunday News
Published: May 11, 2008
By JOHN DUFFY, Correspondent

A critic once called Josh Ritter "atypically talented," and the label certainly fits. He's verbose beyond reason, bending language with apparent ease, not struggling as many songwriters do.

If, indeed, Ritter has to work prodigiously at his craft, he hides it well. "The Historical Conquests of Josh Ritter," his 2007 album on SMG, effortlessly combines the bouncing melodic tick of Modest Mouse, the machine-gun-speed lyrics of early Springsteen, and the complex, low-fi ethic of Tom Waits.

Ritter began perfecting that mix in 2001 his debut effort, "The Golden Age of Radio," an album that underscored his name on the roster of "next big things" and branded him the best singer-songwriter ever to come out of Idaho. (Can you name another?) He's so huge in Ireland, apparently, that he's inspired a Josh Ritter tribute band.

Ritter opens his latest album with "To the Dogs or Whoever," in which he whimsically ponders mortality through the likes of folk heroes Casey Jones, Joan of Arc and Calamity Jane.He sings: "Joan never cared about the in-betweens/ Combed her hair with a blade did the Maid of Orleans/ Said Christ walked on water, we can wade through the war/ You don't need to tell me who the fire is for."Yes, he's aping Dylan here; it's obvious.

But instead of a strident folkie D chord underneath, there's a persistent drumbeat and guitars sounding as if they're fed through a transistor radio. Ritter's own voice is distorted, as if he were singing in the belly of a whale.He continues: "Oh, bring me the love that can sweeten a sword/ A boat that can love the rocks or the shore/ The love of an iceberg reaching out for a wreck/ Can you love me like the crosses love the nape of the neck?"

In "The Temptation of Adam," a man and woman — soldiers, we assume — are confined to a nuclear missile silo contemplating the end of the world, not its beginning. They fall in love, and the man is tempted not by a red apple, but by the red launch button. The only way he knows he'll never lose her might be to make sure there is no one left alive to take her away. On "Empty Hearts" the singer dreads facing another year alone and pines for a woman he says will "know me by the sound of my hoping."

Ritter bends musical genres and archetypes to his will as well as he manipulates words. Bright and sunny, "Right Moves" mimics 1960s pop, complete with horns and cheesy strings, while "Wait For Love" nestles into the strummed guitar and trickling piano of some post-Dashboard Confessional indie folk.

Ritter concentrates on his arrangements just long enough to discover how to best serve the lyric, never overextending himself or getting bogged down in knob twiddling, and never forcing the chords. And he gives each lyric the space it needs, even if it takes him to some illogical, tragic, silly or ironic place. The balance Ritter strikes between lyrics and music is truly rare.