On Ship a Prayer My Means, Julien Baker and Mackenzie Scott, who performs as Torres, are falling off the wagon and watching its wheels; they’re reckoning with remorse; they’re wrestling hateful moms. Longtime listeners of the 2 artists know that they usually lay their struggles on the forefront of their music, from prying at faith to coming to phrases with queerness to wanting up from a bottle’s backside.
However right here, they arrive at these themes from a unique approach. About 5 years in the past, Scott floated the idea of a rustic document to Baker, a la Willie Nelson and Waylon Jennings—and was stunned when she stated sure. “I used to be apprehensive that Julien would say no, and I can not stand rejection,” Scott advised Backyard & Gun. “So I framed it as, ‘Wouldn’t that be hilarious if we made a rustic document?’ And Julien was like, ‘Oh, hell yeah, I’m gonna ship you some demos.’”
Nation music performed a formative position in each singers’ lives: Scott grew up in Georgia, surrounded by church music and ’90s nation; Baker grew up in Tennessee on a gentle eating regimen of Merle Haggard and George Jones. (You may take a look at the duo’s “Cuntry” playlists to see some lasting favorites.) However for the size of their respective careers, they’ve caught to the rock/indie nexus.
Ship a Prayer My Means, the results of their nation collaboration, is an examination of faith, medication, and love set in working-class Southern neighborhoods—each a tribute to their upbringings and an effort to reimagine the style. At instances, the mix of their particular person rock kinds with nation creates one thing recent, however some efforts really feel extra pastiche than ingenious.
The album’s obsessive about love, in each iteration—and the way a lot you may make peace with it. Scott opens “Tuesday,” a slow-moving and tender paean to the titular lady, with adoration. However because the tune reveals itself to be about queer want, it additionally reveals the challenges its narrator faces: the hateful response from her crush’s mom and the mournful self-excoriation that outcomes, all grounded by Baker’s accompaniment on a resonant dobro. “Sugar within the Tank,” in the meantime, is nothing if not confident. As Baker repeats “I really like you” in the beginning of every line, underscored by banjo and a Hammond organ, the tune ramps up in ardour, insistent and rollicking. When it breaks into the refrain, the pair’s voices come collectively, their twangy vocals layering in an earnest and trustworthy country-pop component with tongue-in-cheek sultriness (“Put a bit of sugar within the tank,” a nod to queerness too) that cools down cleanly on “I’ll love you all the way in which.” They thread traditional imagery beside the love declarations: They’re “tied up on the practice tracks,” “strung out on the drying rack,” and “sitting outdoors with the engine runnin’.”
