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A newsletter for the students, faculty and staff of the Collin County Community College District. Published monthly. For information or submissions, call 972.599.3142. Cougar News welcomes student and faculty submissions. Next deadline: January 10. All submissions are due by 5 p.m. on the due date. Photos cannot be returned. Text should be emailed to mrobinson@ccccd.edu or sent on disk. Please submit copy that is proofed, edited and saved in Word format. Cougar News staff: Lisa Vasquez, director; Mark Robinson, editor; Marcy Cadena-Smith, contributor; Stephanie Hall, student correspondent; Adriana Rodriguez, student correspondent; special contributors: Heather Darrow, Sonya Flaming, John Glass; Nick Young, photography and layout.
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Album review: Ray LaMontagne "Till the Sun Turns Black"
By Mark Robinson
Cougar News Editor
 Ray LaMontagne is a lot of things.
Lumberjack folkie.
Bearded troubadour.
Soul man.
Poet with the propensity for romance and all that entails.
LaMontagne labors under all those personas with his second major release, “Till the Sun Turns Black.”
However, a proper catch-all could be country bluesman. One who knows the song is the soil and the tune is in the trees. One who drapes his melodies with lush strings, whispered acoustic guitar and horns that sound as sweet and warm as honey on a buttered roll.
The liner notes state that LaMontange was recorded by Ethan Johns in studios in New York and Hollywood. But the stripped down songs could’ve been recorded among the Sequoia Redwoods, or in the Yukon--anywhere other than a stuffy studio where lesser singer-songwriters wilt.
He croons like Van Morrison, but with Nick Drake’s melancholy.
“Be Here Now” opens with a softly dancing cascade of strings over a finger-picked acoustic guitar. “Can I Stay” also exhibits a similar serene melody. Both songs promote the importance of proximity when it comes to love. It seems that LaMontagne has “fallen sad inside/and needs a place to hide.”
LaMontagne knows loss and insecurity. He’s apt to remind the listener at every turn. “I never learned to count my blessings/I choose instead to dwell in my disasters,” LaMontagne whispers like Cat Stevens on “Empty.”
“Three More Days” and “You Can Bring Me Flowers” both evoke the low-down blues in their most soulful incarnation.
“Gone Away From Me” is the saddest hymn ever written.
If we learn anything from our mournful bard it’s this: Love is everywhere and no where.
Four out of Five Paws
[PRINTER FRIENDLY VERSION]
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