Excellent quietude and decent loudness

When an artist is as well-traveled and established as Brandi Carlile, certain facets of their sound will become more appealing. She’s traversed the worlds of pop, Americana, folk and country, and people disagree on what her best mode is. Her most recent album, In These Silent Days, is one of her cleanest yet, with little in the way of country twang. Instead, it’s based in piano ballads, acoustic folk and a couple of rock songs. She’s at her best with her guitar and her own backing vocals, delivering devastating portraits of her children and love. Still, the rock songs do a good job of incorporating her vocal idiosyncrasies, and they come out decently. Sadly, the piano-based songs aren’t nearly as interesting, dragging down what could’ve been an outstanding album into “very good” territory.

Carlile is known for her songwriting, and In These Silent Days is no different as she reflects on religious hypocrisy, the legacy she passes on to her own children and how far one’s love for another can go in the face of self-destructive impulses. What might first appear to be an overdramatic central metaphor on “Mama Werewolf” becomes heartbreaking as she begs her children to be the silver bullet if she ever becomes a werewolf by inheriting the toxic traits of her parents. A similar masterstroke occurs on “Sinners Saints and Fools.” The song’s trashing of religious hypocrisy is far from subtle but using the same chorus throughout while shifting the perspective of the verses from the central charlatan turning up his nose to the “poor and huddled masses” to angels judging the false bible-thumper as he is locked out of heaven is a chillingly effective move.

The instrumentals on songs like “This Time Tomorrow” and “Letter to the Past” are just as powerful. On the former song, the guitar melody is elegiac, the harmonies crank up the intimacy and universality of the theme, and the cooing in the bridge is the icing on the cake. However, “Stay Gentle” feels a little thin in comparison. “Mama Werewolf” plays up its instability with tons of reverb stacked onto Carlile’s voice in the bridge before opening up and feeling warmer in the hook, matching the emotions of the song.

The final instrumental triumph comes on “When You’re Wrong,” where the truncated, three-note main riff sells pure sorrow as Carlile wishes the best for an ex who doesn’t feel they deserve anything good in life after all their mistakes.It’s easily her best vocal performance on the record, cracking on all the right notes, sounding empathetic and heartbroken.

It’s a shame that, when given a bare-bones piano ballad like “Right on Time” or “Throwing Good After Bad,” she instead over-sings, which isn’t nearly as effective. Furthermore, the swell of a scuzzy electric guitar in the former could’ve worked if it was given more room to breathe than the pedal steel. There’s just nothing to get swept up in because her delivery is anonymous and could be confused for half-a-dozen other pop/adult contemporary starlets.

To its credit, In These Silent Days finds the best match to her vocal histrionics with a rock edge on “Broken Horses” and hellish, gospel-inflected smolder on “Sinners Saints and Fools.” Neither are good enough to beat out the quieter moments, but the huge wall of backing vocals, harsh strumming and furious soloing in the former are the best fit for her rougher delivery. The latter is the boldest track on the record, with harsh strings and crunchy rock guitar to match its lyrical content as its protagonist is locked out of heaven. However, these could’ve gotten even more demented and dramatic and been the better for it.

Though the piano ballads are forgettable, the rest of In These Silent Days work around Carlile’s weaknesses and play up her strengths. It’s a very good album—though it could’ve been better.