- The fusing of hip-hop and country music in 2019 has most notably resulted in an auto-tuned Billy Ray Cyrus singing about “Fendi sports-bras” on a viral remix of Lil Nas X’s Old Town Road. Probably for the best, the hip-hop influence doesn’t stick out quite so much on Faye Webster’s third release, Atlanta Millionaires Club - for the most part, it is quietly present just beneath the surface, begging for a closer listen.
The Atlanta songwriter and diehard counted Lil Yachty as a high school mate, released her debut record on the same label as Playboi Carti and is well-known for her portraits of big rappers like Offset and D.R.A.M. Wait though, equally present in her life has been Americana, western swing and bluegrass music: her grandfather was a professional bluegrass guitarist and she picked it up like it was second-nature by the end of primary school.
Three records down the track, Webster has mastered the seamless integration of her broad influences. Atlanta Millionaires Club ambles between country, folk, soul and hip hop moments without seeming derivative, diluted, or, you know, just plain wrong. In fact, she shows more confidence than ever with the addition of really resonant, warm brass elements, and a healthy dolloping of the too-often stigmatised pedal steel. In the tradition of the soundcloud mixtape release, Webster resists the temptation to rework and polish every line, counterbalancing the orchestration. Listening to the ten tracks feels like taking part in a conversation, lyrics delivered as they occur to Webster, with little importance given to big ideas over peripheral details.
On Hurts Me Too, Webster seems comfortable in a newfound solitude, paralleling Julia Jacklin on her latest record, Crushing. Webster sings “The day that I said I loved you, you didn’t say it in return / That was the day I realized that silence is actually heard.” Her voice is crystalline and delivery straightforward, bobbing above a swell of saxophone which almost threatens to overpower her, but never does.
Abundant vintage motifs and bendy, luau-appropriate guitar licks could run the risk of dating Atlanta Millionaires Club, but decidedly modern idiosyncrasies give Webster’s stories of loneliness and heartache a sense of immediacy. On Room Temperature, she sings “I should get out more,” over and over with Stella Donnelly insouciance, and on Pigeon she recounts the details of a long-distance relationship with the dry wit of Courtney Barnett: “I sent a pigeon with a note to his house / I hope he hung it up, he probably threw it out.”
The back end of the record holds recent single Flower, featuring Atlanta rapper Father. Over a dozy beat that could belong to SZA or noname, Webster’s voice takes on a glistening, ethereal quality. The beauty of the track is that it’s not dissonant from the rest of the album, a testament to Webster’s skillful interweaving of neo-soul elements throughout.
Atlanta Millionaires Club closes on Jonny (Reprise), two minutes of spoken-word direct address which borders on the comical. Over strings and saxophone, the unexpected MC farewells her former love. “Yes Johnny, I’ll say it: this is a love song. I guess this is how it ends.” It’s fairly certain that Faye Webster won’t generate the kind of controversy Lil Nas X has been revelling in. That’s because -quietly, easily- she knows how all this music works and can fit it together like it ain’t no thing. If you’re looking for hype, look elsewhere; if you’re looking for an accomplished musician working with a wry smile, that’s Faye Webster.
- Aleisha McLaren.