320 kbps | 102 MB | LINKS
Warning: Let’s Just Stay Here is not a Carolyn Mark album. It’s a Carolyn Mark & NQ Arbuckle album. There’s a big, slightly frustrating difference. Rather than a full set of songs written and sung by Mark– songs that typically sparkle with self-deprecating, seen-it-all humor and delivered in her husky, dusky voice– Let’s Just Stay Here pairs her with the Toronto-based alt-country band, splitting singing and songwriting between her and frontman Neville Quinlan. He’s a fine singer, with a deep, roughly textured voice that sounds a bit like Richard Buckner after a few years on the rodeo circuit, but as with most artists in this genre, his proximity to Mark reduces him to mediocrity. Really, only Neko Case has sung with Mark and come away unscathed.
To be fair, NQ Arbuckle put up a good fight. Like Mark, Quinlan favors languorous country tunes full of concrete details and proper nouns that evoke the open highway or a decrepit roadhouse or a second-guessed relationship. Looking at life from a similarly skeptical perspective, he’s fond of tragicomic lyrics full of grim humor and stabbing insights. “Just ’cause you got chased by some bull makes you an honorary cowboy,” he smirks on “Saskatoon Tonight”, which might actually be a jab at bass player John Dinsmore, who was a bullfighter before joining the group. Not sure that’s the guy you want to make fun of, especially when he’s holding a big blunt instrument. Quinlan’s best moment, however, comes early in the album: “Officer Down” is a well-observed consideration of marriage and music that manages to find a kernel of contentment in a tumultuous marriage. “It’s hard to be a good man listening to the Drive-By Truckers,” he sings, not as an excuse but as a peek at his pathology. I’ve found just the opposite to be true, actually.
In truth, there’s a real spark between him and Mark, who previously sang together on her 2006 duets album, Just Married. Their voices blend well together as they trade off lead and backing duties, although a few more proper duets like “Itchy Feet”, with its mandolin and wine bottle solos, would have showcased their chemistry a bit better. Mark gets top billing here for a reason. With her warm twang and nonchalant sass, she has an easy way with a song, settling into opener “All Time Low” and the closing title track like she’s crashing on someone’s especially cozy couch. “You can’t get dinner in Reno/ At a place that ain’t a casino,” she sings on “All Time Low”, making the line sound like both a Zagat critique and a philosophical inquiry. And on “The 2nd Time”, she turns a simple question– “How can the second time be an accident?” which has a certain tramp-stamp wisdom– into a massive, “Hey Jude”-style sing-along, during which she calls out commands that the band and her live audiences can’t help but obey.