The American South is often referenced for its sweetness: its teas, cobblers, soul music, and the like. Caleb Caudle sings and writes like a Southerner. The title of his sixth release, Sweet Critters, suggests its rural authenticity, hokum, and sugariness. Who says “critters” these days? The North Carolina native affects a deep drawl, a slow cadence, and a head full of tropes that peg him in the tradition of classic country music from the Appalachian part of the country. He’s got a soft spot for the natural beauty of its woodlands and the memories (real and invented) of the people who live there, and that’s just part of the picture.
Two Alabama brethren, John Paul White and Ben Tanner, produced Sweet Critters and added to its rootsy feeling, as evidenced by its instrumentation and vocal harmonies. Caudle’s voice is front and center as his guitar playing. He’s joined by Karl Zerfas (bass, vocals), Carter Giegerich (Dobro, mandolins), Ben Tanner (piano, organ, Wurlitzer, vibraphone), John Paul White (vocals), Ken Lewis (drums, percussion), John Duncan (fiddle mandolin). In addition, Aoife O’Donovan sings one song and Allison Russell another. Caudle wrote 11 of the 12 songs. The one cover, Keith Whitley‘s “Great High Mountain”, opens the record.
Whitley’s song preaches the importance of self-reliance and faith in God in a world of obstacles. Caleb Caudle sings it like he’s the soloist in a church choir—a silent wooden chapel in the forest. But the singer immediately changes direction with the song that follows, his self-penned ode to “The Devil’s Voice”, in which “the devil’s voice sounds a whole lot like mine”. This spiritual ping-ponging underlies the music’s intricacy. O’Donovan’s harmonies on “The Brim” offer an “empty heart” that’s “filled to the brim”. Russell finds “heaven” in “a day of struggle”. The Southern songwriter takes a dualistic view of the world. Its obligingness and unkindness live together as one.
Working within genre limitations (i.e., Southern culture) encourages Caudle to reference past traditions and show their present currency. For example, the “Sweet Critters” of the title song are not live animals. They are “brass figurines” meant for display whose existence evokes Tennessee Williams’ Glass Menagerie. Williams’ fragile collection represented the delicate nature of the young woman who collected them. Caudle’s female protagonist is tough like her creatures. Her love lasts. Whether the songwriter meant to involve Williams purposely does not matter. The track stands on its own. Putting it in a Southern frame allows the listener to give it context. We see a Southern woman who does not fit the stereotype through our familiarity with the past.
Caleb Caudle uses a similar strategy when describing the Southern flora and fauna. He croons about “mountain laurels”, “copperheads”, “horsefly heat”, and such to represent the beauty and danger of the setting. The descriptive details evoke everything from old Carter Family songs to more modern narratives to show the area’s layered strata. But he knows what looks like heaven can be deceiving. Caudle doesn’t romanticize as much as present the reality, whether describing an authentic small-town rock club or imaginary “Rivers of Fire” that separate us. The actual and the factual aren’t always the same thing! People’s feelings can be as real as a fiddlehead fern or a “Hollywood Ending”. The power of Caudle’s songwriting is that he convinces us of this just by telling us the story.