Ever since 2010’s In Memory of Loss, we’ve been enamoured with Nathaniel Rateliff’s songwriting and delivery. Switching from gentle croons to out-and-out wails, Rateliff uses his voice as more than a way to communicate words, pacifying the listener with soothing murmurs one minute and brandishing it as a weapon the next. Falling Faster Than You Can Run and the Closer EP cemented Rateliff’s talents, his voice the lynchpin of his sound, injecting a raw energy into his finger-picked folk.
You have probably heard that Rateliff is back, not least because of his rather explosive performance of Jimmy Fallon’s Tonight Show, and this time he has company. It’s fair to say that Nathaniel Rateliff & The Night Sweats are not finger-picking folkers, but the raw energy of his solo work remains, as highlighted by album opener ‘I Need Never Get Old’. A good indicator of the shambling, soulful rock that The Night Sweats have brought to the table, the track is still recognisably Rateliff but with a showy, jubilant flourish. The track also serves as an introduction to the main theme of the record, a marriage of celebration and introspection, needles of regret poking through the haze of adrenaline and alcohol.
“I know that some will say it matters but little babe
Come on and mean it to me I need it so bad
Mean it to me I need it so bad.I needed to try
Needed to fall
I needed your love I’m burning away
I need never get old”
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‘Howling At Nothing’ sees the dial swing further toward soul, an impassioned, swaying tune for good times amongst bad days, where sincere, starlit promises spark into brilliant existence before fading with the dawn. As with much of the record the sense of embracing the moment is palpable, as if everyone involved understands that despite what might happen later, while sober and tired and desperate, every word he sings is heartfelt and genuine:
“Some were playing in a round
Some were dipping so low
It never seemed to matter as the night slipped away
Cause there was soul in the air”
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That’s not to say, however, a party can drown out all of the darker thoughts. ‘Trying So Hard Not To Know’ speaks of the struggle to sell the idea of goodtimes-as-an-answer, Rateliff labouring to convince himself let alone anyone else (“You never stand up long enough to pull it together/ Well who gives a damn and very few can / When they’re trying so hard not to know”). ‘I’ve Been Failing’, with it’s finger-clicking and tinkling piano, sounds like the midnight confessions of a liquor-loosened tongue. “I’ve been failing you”, wails Rateliff, “but I can’t stop trying”, and you get the impression the trying and failing will continue for a good while yet.
With its blend of self-deprecation, defiance and cathartic yelling, ‘S.O.B’ is central to the album, the creed to the Night Sweats faith. Rising out of handclaps and wordless hums, the song finds Rateliff possessed with zeal, a pacing preacher electrified by the communal energy of his congregation:
“I’m gonna need someone to help me
I’m gonna need somebody’s hand
I’m gonna need someone to hold me down
I’m gonna need someone to care
I’m gonna writhe and shake my body
I’ll start pulling out my hair
I’m going to cover myself with the ashes of you and nobody’s gonna give a damn”
It’s as if his life depends on getting these words out, be it as a warning for others, a last plea for help or just a clearing of his head and mouth before the next big drink. Here Rateliff is caught between the very human (male?) solipsism, the star-of-a-movie-called-Me attitude of grand statements and gestures and (imaginary?) heroines waiting for rescue, and the depressive notion that the buck stops with him, that no-one else cares all that much, probably because they are all too busy in a spotlight of their own imagining. What’s more, Rateliff seems to understand his position without fully submitting to either side. Instead, he whips himself into a frenzy, rebuking himself while all the while hoping for an epiphany. Every so often he is tipped over the threshold, though whether into ecstasy or anguish it’s never quite clear.
“Son of a bitch
Give me a drink
Won’t more night
This can’t be me
Son of a bitch
If I can’t get clean
I’m gonna drink my life away”
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A return to the regret-filled confessional style, ‘Wasting Time’ finds Rateliff musing on all the hours he has wasted “falling down” and “hiding under”, as well as the time lost “in constant reflection”. ‘Thank You’ is an apology to his loved one for this outlook (“Spend your years / Spend your time / With all these tears”), while ‘Look it Here’ is an attempted explanation, a cathartic admission of guilt which builds into frustrated yelling of simple truths: “I got a love so hard I can’t stand it / And with a heart so weak and abandoned”.
If this seems like the turning point before a Happy-Ever-After then don’t be fooled. ‘Shake’ is hot and humid, snaking like a low mist, the fever-dreams of a man pinning hope of reprieve on some erotic encounter, while ‘I’ll Be Waiting’ is based in reality, Rateliff alone and weary and still gripped by the need for love (“I’m tired and worn / But I’m still standing / I’ll be waiting ah baby just to dance with you”). Closing track ‘Mellow Out’ finds him pocketing advice you feel he could never follow, and, be it his honesty or bravado or both, you can’t help but not hold it against him.
“Someone came in rushing dragging feet and nails and I could pretend
Wanting more of nothing, feel it wearing on me
Just keep it hidMellow out, and find a better way you’re feeling it shut down
Take it easy baby, maybe find some time to just calm down
Keep on telling me”
Nathaniel Rateliff & The Night Sweats could be your favourite anti-heroes of the sixties, the forgotten friend of Otis Redding and Sam & Dave, or maybe from even further back, a band of villains rolling into nameless pre-war towns to cause shitstorms in cowboy brawl-bars and put smiles faces for one night only. That there is a serious side is less a surprise than a foregone conclusion, because no man has conjured this kind of bone-level fervour out of a pleasant existence. No, here are people staring down the barrel, people stranded in a sea of beer, locked inside some breakneck motion in which a grin and a grimace are practically indistinguishable. Whether this is a defiant two fingers or last hurrah seems unclear even to Rateliff, himself too caught up in a compulsion to dance and scream and shout. Whatever you take from this record, one thing is clear: They can’t put you in the ground if you’re still moving.
Nathaniel Rateliff & The Night Sweats is out on the 21st of August via Stax / Caroline, and you can buy it here.