Megan Bee: Like a Canyon
Megan Bee, Like A Canyon
The first thing I thought when I listened to Megan Bee's new album, Like A Canyon, was, “if the Avett Brothers had a sister, she could be the Avett Sister.” I don't know if she'll think that's a compliment, but well see when this thing gets published.
There is no lack of folksy singers who will sing a couple on-key country standards or a song or two that they wrote, and we all know the type: the denizen of the coffee shop or open mic scene, with a fairly new Taylor guitar, and a couple of lyric sheets printed off the internet. Megan Bee does not leave the listener with that impression. She seems to have nothing to prove and no agenda, just to write her heart and then sing it. From the first song, Like A Canyon, when she starts singing about the colors of a cottonwood tree, I realize that I don't know what a cottonwood tree looks like, but I can feel what a cottonwood tree looks like. You still with me? I've never been to New Mexico, but I can feel New Mexico.
The album is beautifully produced, and Megan's voice cuts like a warbling bird through the music, like a line on a map; this is the adventure she wants to take you on. She doesn't want to tell you about the canyon, she wants to take you there, and chirps you along your way.
Megan covers a lot of ground. There's a little Dixie Chicks (53 years), there's a little Donovan (Little Birdie), there's a little Counting Crows (That's Enough) and a little traditional country (Fishing Line). She approaches everything with honesty and leaves the sensation that she's left a little of herself behind for you, like a Hansel & Gretel crumb in every song. You'll get there, just listen.
Recommended listening: Like A Canyon, That's Enough