Introduction
Undoubtedly the most prolific “Zacholyte” in country music, Sam Barber has found a niche in a sonic space more akin to gothic folk than Zach Bryan’s heartland rock, with a wise-beyond-his-years lyrical voice. Sometimes, he gets a bit lost in his own head, and narrative clarity comes at the expense of flowery purple prose that probably sounded better in his head, even on his most popular songs (see the likes of “Man of the Year”).
Textually, his kryptonite continues to be an inability to do one thing truly well, caught between being a true storyteller and sharing his inner monologue, and we kind of get the worst of both worlds.
Nevertheless, he’s a young artist with a deep, expressive bag and gutsy, one-of-a-kind voice, tailor-made for the moody style of music his writing usually yields. The same is very much the case for his two new EPs.
It’s unclear why these were released as separate projects. Unlike Eric Church’s Heart & Soul, they don’t showcase unique sides of his personality or offer any conceptual dichotomy. It’s just… more music. And honestly, that might be the most profound commentary I can make on both releases. Across all nine tracks, he sticks to his usual formula and exposes some of the most elegant nothing we’ve heard all year.
Outlier – EP Review
Outlier’s title track sets expectations right where Barber left off on last year’s Music For the Soul. He clearly fancies himself to be some maverick, but it’s never very clear how. Unlike Zach Bryan, who’s keenly attuned to his self-image, you rarely see Sam laying his heart on his sleeve and just singing about himself.
There’s a vagueness to these lyrics that guards him from being fully transparent with the audience. It’s not as bad as Dylan Gossett’s endless cavalcade of pointless metaphors, but listeners often ask themselves, “Okay, what do you mean by that?”
All six of these songs are rich and earthy in sound, and remain punchy and chantable enough to hide Barber’s lyrical missteps. “If I May” and “Northern Weeds” are particularly strong production-wise, unlocking the right level of intensity to showcase his most compelling vocals in some time.
It would be nice to see him empty the clip with true personal commentary, but he’s still an extremely young talent, and the opportunity for him to deliver a career best is still very much before him.
The real concern is the fact that his immense popularity has allowed him to take a laissez-faire “if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it” attitude, ignoring the fact that early hits like “Straight and Narrow” weren’t really that profound, and certainly shouldn’t serve as the standard for years of subsequent releases.
Overall, ‘Outlier” is a pretty perfect snapshot of Sam Barber’s strengths and weaknesses. Lots of anthemic, emotional deliveries that remind you of a younger Marcus Mumford with arrangements that also recall his eponymous band. But you still feel he’s green in his craft, and when he tries to say something really deep and thoughtful, it never fully connects.
This is “vibe music” through and through, and it can make you feel like you’re listening to something insightful even if you’re not really paying attention.
Dying Times – EP Review
In his short career, Sam Barber has proved that he can execute the arena rock formula with the best of them; he has a voice like no one else in music today, belting and emotive on high-urgency cuts like “Better Year” and much of the Outlier EP. Things start to unravel when he puts on his Jason Isbell hat; Sam can nail a ballad when it lands in his comfort zone with a big hook, propelled by the crisp production that drives his tempo cuts (see the smash hit “Indigo”).
However, removing the bells and whistles and asking him to break your heart with his voice and a lone guitar is not yet a winning proposition.
“Dark Sky” is a good example of this; you can tell he’s trying to tell a story, but it comes across like a haphazard smattering of messy details that don’t convey a full narrative. Asking the listener to focus on his voice against a dry minor-chord arrangement requires a level of lyrical mastery that Sam hasn’t yet achieved.
The title track “Dying Times” is easier to wrap your arms around, with a simple premise of resisting the devil at your low points, and the wispy mandolin arrangement. Still, even then, it’s almost too simple to be impressive.
“Yellow Diamonds” has the bones of an entrancing ballad, but doesn’t fully go the distance to hold your attention with detail and narrative clarity. From the haphazard half-phrases that make up most of this song, you can infer that it’s about materialism standing in the way of intimate, human connection, but who’s to say for sure? Sam Barber is never short on good ideas, but these terse little half-efforts remain woefully unfulfilling, especially given his ceiling.
Until then, he fits in more with the Kings of Leon than the Joshua Stones, where his raw talent for execution can take center stage and carry his less impressive lyrical moments.
