It hasn’t taken Sam Beam very long to overhaul his guy-at-home-with-guitar persona. If you’d heard The Creek Drank the Cradle, Iron & Wine’s spare, lo-fi debut, in 2002, it would have been rather difficult to imagine this musical evolution. Creek was a quiet, unassuming acoustic affair focused squarely on Beam’s vivid and engaging storytelling. Yet with each release, he’s more assertively embraced the possibilities of the studio.
At first glance, the pairing of Beam and Tucson’s Calexico seems a bit odd: the “literate” folkie and the “cinematic” rock band. Rather than cause him to lose focus, the broader musical backdrop seems to have inspired him. His words may not have the immediacy they do in sparser settings, but now he’s writing songs with the full aural package in mind.
Calexico, meanwhile, are masters at creating moods, at establishing a sense of place. Their lush and sensitive accompaniment never overwhelms Beam’s vocals, allowing him to stick with his trademark hushed, warm tones.
This “mini-album” covers an impressive amount of stylistic ground in a mere seven songs (all Beam originals) and 27 minutes. There’s a classic Calexico-style southwestern desert soundscape (complete with flamenco singing by Tucson’s Salvador Duran) and a country ballad gently pulled along by harmonica and pedal steel. There’s a jaunty soul-inflected number with a buoyant horn arrangement and a gritty little blues romp. Muted trumpets float across the moody and mysterious “Burn That Broken Bed”. With soft harmony vocals and a delicate back-porch vibe, the closing “Dead Man’s Will” is characteristic Iron & Wine, and the album’s most haunting and memorable track.
These are fully fleshed-out ideas, the music rich and evocative, the lyrics poignant and probing. Beam has not shed the singer-songwriter aesthetic, he’s simply enriched it. By doing so, he’s proving to be much more than a guy at home with guitar; he’s a full-fledged musician, and quite a compelling one at that.
