Cultural cringe still exists in Australia. Combined with tall poppy syndrome and cultural imperialism from the northern hemisphere, the result is that our airwaves and algorithms are dominated by American country music artists. We lionise people from a distant land who tell stories that have nothing to do with us – if they tell stories at all, as quite often the songs seem to take two verses, a chorus and a bridge to describe a feeling – and flock to festivals that make them headliners.
The result is that we can have a genius hiding in plain sight, on these shores, and while that person can receive accolades and awards, they’re usually not receiving the airwave-and-algorithm attention they should. That means there are millions of people who should know who they are, not because the artist is ‘worthy’ of the attention but because the art they create makes life better. Because it’s rich and interesting and uplifting and entertaining. Because it says ‘I’ve been here and here’s how I got through it, so you can get through it too’, and it also says, ‘I’m opening up my heart and my lungs, my mind and my memories, and giving you this amazing musical experience’.
One such genius – and there aren’t many of them – is Catherine Britt. Growing up in, and still living in, the New South Wales coastal city of Newcastle, Britt is a five-time Golden Guitar Award winner and six-time ARIA Award Best Country Album nominee, but those details go not very far down the road of conveying just how accomplished and astute she is as a songwriter, recording artist and performer, and they tell you nothing at all about how electrifying she is as a complete artist.
In August last year Britt and her collaborator Lachlan Bryan released their second album as The Pleasures. Enemy of My Enemy built on their outstanding debut album, The Beginning of the End, moved the storytelling along and consolidated their ability to ride the musical slipstream together, as anyone who’s seen them live knows they can do. I repeat that the album was released in August, because Britt has released a new solo album, her ninth, not even six months later. In between those two events she gave birth to her third child, and if anyone wants to say either that that is not relevant or that I shouldn’t mention it in case someone wants to make a thing about it, it is relevant, because Britt has been making music while she’s been growing a human and that is nowhere near as simple as that phrase makes it sound.
So let’s look at that ninth album, The Hardest Thing. It covers hard times in Britt’s life, including the end of her first marriage, and the first single – and first track – ‘One Divorce, Two Kids and a Few Whiskies Ago’, gives you a sense of that story. There are others that give us other strands of darkness, including ‘You Don’t Love Here Anymore’, ‘Red Pickup Truck’ and the title track. There are also songs with light and tenderness in them, such as ‘I Found a New Love’ and ‘Sky Blue’.
The production on all of the songs is clean and straightforward. Britt and her husband (and The Pleasures drummer), Bradley Bergen, produced the album and played most of the instruments on it. What the production leaves space for is Britt’s voice. Her voice. In case you haven’t seen her live, you may not quite understand exactly what she can do with that voice, but the good thing is that you will understand more fully once you’ve listened to the album (and there are all those other albums to catch up on). Britt is right there with us as she sings us through these stories of a life that has taken some roads she may well wish she hadn’t travelled but which have brought her to where she is today, and that is, as track 8 tells us, her ‘Cowgirl Era’.
While the album is called The Hardest Thing, perhaps she was tempted to call it ‘Cowgirl Era’. Or perhaps that song is her signifier for what comes after the album: the rest of her life, lived in cowgirl technicolour. This song is an anthem that starts with a little bit of sweet sonic misdirection before it kicks off. ‘I’m tough as nails and strong as leather and I’m past the point of pain’ sings Britt with an edge to her voice that isn’t there in the other tracks. It’s not a snarl; it’s a statement. ‘I’ve got a steady hand and a wicked plan’ she tells us, and ‘no poker face this time’. And in the chorus she lets rip with a glorious ‘Hi-yo’ that is a call to arms for anyone listening who needs the fortitude that she is offering.
There are other shades on this album – enough for us to have a good sense of what the past few years have been like for Britt – and there will be much for listeners to connect with. They don’t have to, though. Sometimes we can put too much responsibility on singer-songwriters to solve our problems for us; to open up their scars and let us see inside. Sometimes we need to realise that the singing part of that equation has just as much, if not more, to offer us. In a great voice we can find things that aren’t in the lyrics; we can hear a world of pain in a phrase, and exultation too. A great singer can give us the equivalent of a page in a line that is five words long.
This is what Catherine Britt does. This is why she’s a genius. It’s her songwriting, yes, but it’s also her singing. Most of all it’s where they come from: her creativity, her instincts as an artist, her discernment about what works in songs and performance and what doesn’t. And it’s also this: she’s a brilliant entertainer. She understands that the best songs and the best singing don’t mean much if an audience member or a listener isn’t also entertained, because they’ll often just stop listening.
The greatest art is so often the most entertaining. Catherine Britt is a great artist. The Hardest Thing is the proof.
The Hardest Thing is out now through Red Rebel Music/MGM Distribution.
Listen on Apple Music
