Robert Chaney offers us a stunning debut that should have him propelling up the ladder of talked about singer/songwriters. A storyteller with a storyteller's vocal inflections and a porch pickers style, Robert has a comfortable familiarity as a base to introduce himself to us as a unique talent.
Definitely a musician on the rise, pay attention folks.
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Though he is still a relative newcomer, the past two years have seen Robert Chaney become one of the most talked-about performers on the London singer-songwriter scene. And Baylen Leonard of one of my favorite radio shows The Front Porch on Amazing Radio has taken notice saying, "Robert Chaney has taken the story song in a whole different direction."
"The record almost didn't happen," recalls Robert. "After moving from Florida to London, I didn't know anyone. I thought I was going to have to get into the open mic grind. So I went to one and showed up late and they put me on last." But it was on the strength of this performance that Robert was approached by producer Ken Brake (The Clientele, Louis Philippe), and the two started working in Ken's London studio, recording dozens of songs over a number of months. Most of the songs on the final record are first or second takes.
The negative space afforded by the spartan guitar-and-voice arrangements serves to bring the lyrical content into hyperfocus, and it is here the 33-year-old truly differentiates himself from his peers. “There was this great DVD rental place around the corner from me on Brick Lane,” Robert explains, “I started to get into old foreign films, art stuff. I started to think like a director or screenwriter. How to maintain tension, how to write from a character.” He pauses for a moment, and is then quick to add, “It’s not all exercises in storytelling, though. There’s a lot of personal stuff on there.”
"Though your leaving's not what I would choose / It's clear the converse serves no use / To keep you locked away for selfish reasons," Robert sings on The Morning After, the words hanging solemn between folds of arrhythmic guitar strums, "And though you show you're fond in part / I do believe to own your heart / Is something just like trying to own the seasons."
It's this tension between love song and story song that provides much of the motivating force behind the album. The Cyclist is equal parts tragic romance and cliffhanging thriller, as a couple deal with the aftermath of a hit-and-run car accident. The Ballad of Edward and Lisa, written about a former co-worker of Robert's, offers a sly critique of organized religion as the song masquerades as an old-fashioned blood-soaked murder ballad.