Few artists have made as dramatic a mid-career switch as Mike Farris, and even fewer have done so as effectively. Farris began as the vocalist for Screamin’ Cheetah Wheelies, a 1990s alt-rock act that never quite found its way to commercial success despite getting a handful of singles on the charts. The band split at the end of the decade, and Farris spent some time as a guitarist for Double Trouble. He had a religious conversion and became born again (musically) as a roots, gospel, and soul artist.
The voice had always been there, but it leaped out in its new setting, with Farris putting out a series of underappreciated (even if award-winning) albums that respected the past while finding new space. After six years away, he returns now with The Sound of Muscle Shoals, possibly the most properly titled album of the year (and that’s undoubtedly a good thing).
Farris has long blended styles, never shying from including swampy soul, so recording an album in FAME Studios makes complete sense. Some of the region’s top studio musicians – including guitarist Will McFarlane, bassist Jimbo Hart, and keyboardist Clayton Ivey – join him in giving the record the authentic Muscle Shoals aesthetic. Each song grooves with a throwback song, but Farris’ writing and delivery prevent the album from drifting into retro obsession. You can hear touches of Curtis Mayfield or Wilson Pickett, but you mostly hear Mike Farris.
“Ease On” opens the album by creating an apt musical and lyrical setting. The first few seconds could begin a lost Aretha Franklin track, but it soon turns to autobiography, with Farris looking at his Tennessee hometown with honest clarity but newfound openness. Listeners less concerned with his roots should still find themselves starting to dance, and the Southern rock guitar solo brings in a further element of Farris’ artistic influences.
Those personal touches keep The Sound of Muscle Shoals from becoming too comfortable, a territory it crosses into just once. “Her” drifts into 1970s AM rock, and while Farris maintains his strong vocal delivery, the song stays somewhere forgettable.
Otherwise, the record rolls on steadily, Farris’ mix of styles playing out with both strength and style (as befitting a Muscle Shoals release). “Before There Was You and I” makes for a stronger love song, with more interesting thinking and carefully crafted arrangement. “Bird in the Rain” plays out at a simmer, smooth backup vocals adding to the mood. “Bright Lights” adds steel guitar to give the LP a more country shift for its life-on-the-road moment. Farris navigates each mood skillfully; his delivery enhances each track, whether he pours on the emotion or employs tasteful restraint.
“Sunset Road”, one of the few moments where faith sneaks in, describes the value of getting rid of worry. Farris sounds relaxed here, a fitting way to end a record designed for its performers and listeners to feel at home. Mike Farris’ solo career has been compelling, and The Sound of Muscle Shoals is a capstone to this era. He recapitulates his musical past in a way that, while maybe not focused on innovation, posits him as an artist with plenty of forward momentum even as he builds on history.