Red Clay Strays- Grateful
Label: RCA
Producer Dave Cobb
The ascendence of this rootsy Alabama sextet to any semblance of attention on the outskirts of both the mainstream country and rock scenes over the past several years has proven to be one of music’s more refreshing success stories of the decade thus far. Not only is there great joy to be found in the fact that this breakthrough happened through an organic groundswell of public discovery, but also in the Red Clay Strays’ understanding that it was their vintage authenticity that brought them to prominence, and that it’s also what will sustain it. Their third studio recording, Grateful finds them as convicted as ever in their rich bedrock of roots sounds and influences, with exactly zero signs of their national stardom interfering with their musical foundation.
As with its predecessor, the record is guided by Americana patron-saint, Dave Cobb’s production while anchored by Brandon Coleman’s booming, generational voice, his bandmate’s superlative blend of country, rock, gospel, and soul, and the classic thematic tussle between sin and salvation. The fact that it never makes an effort to significantly deviate from the sonic or thematic direction of their previous two efforts may render some allegations against this album as being a holding-pattern. A devil’s advocate position may counter by simply casting the Strays as one of those rare acts who launched fully and excellently cooked right out of the gate, making their evolution one that should be graded on a curve. Ultimately, it doesn’t really matter when the music is simply this damned good.
As increasingly demonstrated in their elevated public profile, the band’s gospel roots and their Christian faith continue to be a central presence in their music. However, like so much of the great faith-tinged music of a golden and mostly bygone era, the Strays’ brand of musical spirituality is as steeped in the gritty, darker corners of the life experience as it is in pristine glory. There’s nothing white-bread or chaste to be found about their records. Instead, these performances are full of washed-in-the-blood survival and perseverance. There’s as much fiery brimstone as there is pentecostal-level glory, and it’s that sublime blend–particularly in Coleman’s voice–that really captures the true power of what they’re singing about. This is immediately evident in opening track and current single, “Demons In Your Choir”, which works as well as a badass country-rocker as it does a big-tent revival number, and also refreshingly pulls no punches in calling out the veiled hypocrisy and judgment of those who practice the faith in name only. There are a few moments throughout where some of the more spiritual tracks veer a bit more middle of the road (“Revival” is an example), but the proceedings never jump the tracks into a preachy or melodramatic realm.
And as also practiced on the previous two albums, the band expands into plenty of other topical terrain on both sides of the aisle between impassioned salvation and playful sin, with Cobb unafraid to let the band cut completely loose and jam, regardless of what they’re singing about. Tracks like “Don’t Wanna Know” (a saucy tale about the narrator’s cousin and his wandering eye, co-written with legendary country scribe, Dallas Frazier) and “Walking Away” (a trembling expression of loneliness that recalls Joe Cocker in his prime) are mouth-watering bastions blending twangy country-rock with hair-raising R&B and gospel flourishes. “Down South” is a swampy slice of neo-trad honky-tonk with a consistently crunch bass-line and celebratory Southern roots that conjures memories of Alan Jackson’s early-era hits. Their volcanic Southern-Rock fire is most intoxicating on “Fool’s Gold”, a simple song lyrically but also a bar-shaking and barn-burning showstopper that bursts out of the gates with primal guitar riffs and never relents. Both the music and Coleman’s vocals are positively oozing with a tense seduction and sex appeal that resembles some of Sturgill Simpson’s recently randy moments. It’s an undeniable highlight of the album.
The band also gets socially conscious on the buzzy sizzle of “People Hatin”, and passionately romantic on moments like “If I Didn’t Know You”. And inevitably, all roads lead back to the central pillar of faith with the title track and album finale, “Grateful”, a sour-stirring expression of appreciation for God’s guidance. It’s a soothing performance, but for my money, the true emotional center of the album proves to the preceding song, “Do Today”, a tremendously rousing showcase of Coleman’s vocal range. The verses demonstrate how devastatingly he can tap into the underbelly of despair and hopelessness, while the chorus beautifully contrasts it with triumphant tones of hope and strength.
Dripping with impressive and authentic range in every perceivable aspect, Grateful rounds out a sterling opening trifecta in the catalog of Red Clay Strays. Their music continues to resonate with a power that sometimes feels lost to a long-departed period in popular music; a power that captivating acts like them continue to use to push contemporary music forward into a vibrant space that feels comfortably familiar and thrillingly new all the same.
Track Listing:
- “Demons In Your Choir” (Brandon Coleman, Matthew Coleman, Dakota Coleman)
- “Don’t Wanna Know” (B. Coleman, M. Coleman, Dallas Frazier)
- “Walking Away” (B. Coleman, M. Coleman, Dave Cobb)
- “People Hatin'” (B. Coleman, M. Coleman, Cobb, Zach Rischel, Andrew Bishop, John Hall)
- “Revival” (B. Coleman, M. Coleman, Drew Nix)
- “Down South” (B. Coleman, Nix)
- “If I Didn’t Know You” (Nix, Natalie Hemby)
- “Fool’s Gold” (B. Coleman, M. Coleman, Cobb, Nix, Bishop)
- “Can’t Fix You” (Nix)
- “Do Today” (M. Coleman, Hemby)
- “Grateful” (B. Coleman, M. Coleman, Cobb, Bishop, Nix, Ervin Drake, Jimmy Shirl)
The 706 
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