Chase Rice has established himself as one of the most versatile and creative voices in the country music industry. After releasing two albums with an Americana-rock influence, the now-independent artist’s latest LP, Eldora, takes a more muted approach in landing somewhere between a lonesome traveler’s journal and a lesson in songwriting from a reformed bro-country enthusiast.
Eldora is a mental journey. Written after he performed at Red Rocks last year, the album sees Rice take a more stripped-down approach with underproduced vocals, entrancing instrumentals, and profound storytelling. It encapsulates all of that in a tone and cadence that transports the listener to a log cabin in Eldora, Colorado, creating a vibe that would be borderline cinematic if the production were larger.
Instead, Rice followed a similar format as I Hate Cowboys and Go Down Singin:’ avoid all the tired bro-country pitfalls of Rice’s singles of the past and focus on innovative, captivating stories and acoustics. The result? A wildly enjoyable project that further proves Chase Rice is country music’s rebel without a cause.
The album shines thanks largely to its lyrics. Rice wrote each song with Oscar Charles and Wyatt McCubbin, and the trio kicked out some of the best tracks in Rice’s entire catalog. You can make the argument that “Circa 1943” is in the top three, not just on the album, but Rice’s discography as a whole. Loosely based on his own grandparents, the song tells a tale about a World War II soldier who sustains an injury and falls in love with the nurse who helps him recover. With a heartbreaking twist in the end, it’s the standout song on the project.
Before that, Eldora whisks you away in love, heartache, and country living, all through a perspective that’s more lyrically daring and challenging to the status quo than Rice’s other two projects. He avoids cliches and clarity for the sake of thought-provocation, even if it doesn’t make sense. Take “Tall Grass” for example: it’s hard to follow this collaboration with Kashus Culpepper and Elvie Shane, but it works anyway. The lively, almost haunting production has the perfect blend of soulful country rock and Americana that helps its metaphorical lyrics blend into the background, creating much more of an atmosphere for singing along to its catchy hook than anything else.
Anchored by two slower songs, Rice’s “Cowboy Goodbye” and “Namin’ Horses” are pleasant, endearing tales of self-acceptance and growing old with the person you love. Rice has a knack for making both joyous and depressing tales feel equally heart-warming, which is a consistent theme across Eldora. Each song can’t help but feel like cozying up around a warm fire on a cold night in the mountains, even if it’s a straight tear-jerker.
As is expected with any Rice project, ice-cold Coors beer makes an appearance on track six. Simply titled “Mr. Coors,” it showcases Rice’s unique ability to reminisce about fond memories and their common denominator. It’s also perfectly fitting for Chase Rice in particular, given that Coors Banquet had prominent placement on his last two album covers.
His unfiltered personality is just one more example of why Eldora works so well. It’s reflected not just in the personal tales he tells, but in his approach to writing nowadays. “Two Tone Trippin’” as a song makes no sense – it’s quite literally two guys plucking at guitars and singing about nonsense. But it works in the context of Eldora as a mental break, an escape to the mountains, an intrusive thought that wound on sheets of paper and eventually in a master recording. It also helps to liven things up and avoid a sense of boredom.
There’s a second glimmer of that energy in “Cottonmouth,” where Rice reminisces about smoking marijuana for the first time. It’s energetic and one of the best campfire songs you’ll hear all year, yet it’s far from measuring up as lyrically impressive as other tracks on the album. This is what Rice has done best on his past couple of projects. Throughout Eldora, you’ll hear songs that pluck at the heartstrings, send you into the world he wants to create, and take you on a journey through time. When that’s not happening, the project’s rustic aesthetic remains overwhelming, engaging you with occasional clever hooks and frivolous lyrics that can be shallow for the sake of being shallow.
Compared to his previous albums, Eldora feels closer to something he made in a weekend than an LP meticulously combed over. That’s partially true; Rice admitted that it didn’t take much time to write this album, and as a result, it feels more relaxed and self-reflective than Rice has ever sounded before. Between the emotional storytelling and campy foot-stompers, Eldora feels more in-the-moment than polished or thought-out, like I Hate Cowboys and Go Down Singin’.
It’s like lightning in a bottle, capturing Rice’s creativity as it’s poured out in real time. Chase Rice is one of the most exciting artists to follow, even after his sprawling 15+ year career in country music, and Eldora is another example of that.
