2928 miles (4712 km in civilized measurements) is the distance separating Grace Potter’s current home, Topanga Canyon, from her native Vermont; a journey she has made several times by car and which serves as the common thread of this road movie she presents to us.
This new approach to one of the great themes of American culture, the open road and its detours, is the spiritual sequel to her previous work Mother Road (2023), again produced by her partner, Eric Valentine (also at the helm of another work you might know: Queens of the Stone Age’s Songs for the Deaf) and which immerses us in a rock album full of sunglasses, getaways, stolen kisses, and fun.
It’s curious that guitars don’t play an excessive leading role on this album, but all instruments are well-assembled and serve the song and its fundamental element: the powerful voice of its author. Potter manages to combine magnificent soul flashes with intimate moments.
What doesn’t this album have? We have ballads that become explosive and playful (we highly recommend the song “Love Me Not“), radiant Hammond organs, choruses that sound like a beer-soaked jukebox, unapologetic funk , and overwhelming vitality and desire for fun.
Aside from the theme and its cinematic intention (we recommend checking out the album’s preview shorts she’s been posting over the past few months), this journey offers a condensation of the great genres that rock and roll draws from, and far from being a forced amalgam, it sounds organic and powerful.
Potter seems obsessed with finding her masterpiece, one that condenses all her know-how and the sources she draws from. We don’t know if she’ll achieve it, but she neither resists nor resigns herself to stop chasing it.
A piece of advice: don’t listen to this album in the comfort of your home, as I did; take it for a spin. It’s an excellent soundtrack for any journey.