Album Review: Like a Fire That Consumes All Before It... by Adam Arcuragi

Adam Arcuragi’s third full-length isn’t so much a fire that consumes as a fire that warms. This is alt-country (or folk or whatever) at its finest, music that elides from well-worn and comfortable generic trope to bursts of originality, music that revels in the holy trifecta or lyricism, instrumentation and production. It helps to have a personal love for the kinds of places Arcuragi and his band evoke, and though the danger of regionalism always exists for musicians whose instincts lie in personal landscapes, done right, letting those instincts rule can yield powerful, inclusive music.

Full Review >>

Adam Arcuragi's third full-length CD begins with the sound of a woman leading a group of children in a wolf howl, which turns out to be both a welcome, lighthearted moment in what is otherwise very heavy going and an unintended preview of the strained singing that mars most of the rest of the disc. Arcuragi is nothing if not ambitious on Like a Fire That Consumes All Before It…, a title that represents a sort of double word score in that it is both a line from The Iliad and the name of a painting by Cy Twombly. Each song seems intended to be an anthem, usually with busy (if largely acoustic) instrumentation and a ragged choir that comes in loudly on oft-repeated choruses.

Full Review >>

Recorded in a brief but powerful 12-day spurt in Lexington, Kentucky, the third full-length release from Atlanta-born and Philly-dwelling troubadour Adam Arcuragi, Like a Fire That Consumes All Before It, has a lot going for it: Arcuragi’s soulful voice and an ability to blend elements of church harmonies with primal drumming and hoarse but still mightily barbaric yawps. There’s a sound that harkens back to the analog era and the best work of Van Morrison and Bruce Springsteen, along with the sense that he’s singing about something deep, even if you can’t quite put your finger on it. Trouble is, you can’t quite put your finger on it.

Full Review >>