Raina Rose wants to tell you something. She wants you to hear it, feel it, believe it. The listener is addressed as a person, not as a concept. So when she sings “Woman’s made to cry, man is made to sin,” it is difficult not to take it personally. When I heard it, I felt guilty even though I hadn’t been doing anything except sitting in a hotel room near Houston’s Galleria, watching Brad Culpepper get booted off Survivor. But the next line, “Swing wide the gates and come back in” offered Me, not the conceptual Listener, a chance to mute Survivor and re-enter the world of Hope. “Swing Wide The Gates,” from Caldera, the new album from Austin’s Raina Rose, is the most arresting song this non-conceptual reviewer has heard this year.

Raina Rose first came to our attention as the backing vocalist on Marc Brenton’s Corsair (see previous post). Her delicate harmonies offered the perfect balance to Marc’s rough but vulnerable lead. Raina describes herself as an “unknown folk singer.” Her earlier efforts were undeniably folksy. But Caldera bridges the gap between folk and pop, opening Raina to the vast audience of all thinking persons who love Good Music. Credit to Raina and producer-husband-bassist Andrew Pressman for creating a sound that liberates “folk” from its usual “earthy person with an acoustic guitar trying to be poetic and a bit silly” box (though Raina is undeniably earthy and poetic, and plays an acoustic guitar). The term “Austin folk singer” conjurs images of a slacker on Sixth Street who can play “Whining Boy Blues” while simultaneously smoking a cigarette and swigging a Pearl. It’s entertaining and worth a few minutes of my time, but ask him to sing about the fear in my heart and he is clueless. Raina’s version of “folk,” like that of Marc Brenton, emphasizes musicanship, human emotion, and sincerity over twanginess and cliches.

Raina casts forth images by the basket. Rather than using verses to paint scenes, each couplet may describe a snapshot, a thumbnail. A reviewer should not attempt to match the poetry, using images to describe images. It ain’t gonna work. Better to offer some examples:

I will ignore this like I do my wolf behind my bedroom door (“Apostle”)
Inside your ribcage there lies a timeless age (“I am Listening”)
Lasts as long as a butterfly’s life, cuts as deep as a butter knife (“I Lost It”)
Their arms are wide like live oak limbs, breath is sweet like cinammon (“Bandlands”)
Breathe in the Gatlin gun, eyes on the noon sun (“Drum Machine”)
I’ll stand in a raining wind, an electric fence (“Secret”)
To decipher I’d need a decoder ring on my left hand finger (“Woodsmoke”)

The effect can be addicting, as one picture exits the Polaroid a breath ahead of the next. But at times it can be overwhelming, as the accumulated flecks of color fill the canvas and the scene in the foreground becomes the background behind a wash a words. Caldera’s most powerful tracks are tinged with the airy soulfulness that elevated Jackson Browne’s best work. On “Hands,” Scrappy Jud Newcomb channels David Lindley on “Late For The Sky,” providing a beautiful lead guitar that matches the emotional depth of the vocal.

In a Just World, Raina Rose would not be an “unknown folk singer.” Caldera is a giant leap forward in removing both the “unknown” label and possibly the “folk.”

Caldera is avalabile on iTunes, Bandcamp, CD Baby, and Amazon, and her online store. Join Raina on her homepage, her blog, Facebook,and Twitter.

Photo at top by Jen Hellow.

BONUS GEOLOGY LESSON: A caldera is a feature formed by the collapse of land following a volcanic eruption. The album’s cover photo by Jack Tuggle looks more like a cordillera, an extensive chain of mountains or mountain ranges. It isn’t? It’s the Badlands? OK close enough.

BONUS OUTTAKE: As the mother of a two year old, Raina’s Real vs Conceptual translates to a refusal to describe family members in the third person. “YOU hit ME with the block and it HURT.” Not the usual “Baby gave Mommy an owwie.” Who the heck are Baby and Mommy? Characters in Dirty Dancing?