Living In Skin

Album Review

The process of compiling Jason Harrod's solo debut appears to have been somewhat ragtag, piecing together some of the most richly produced studio material of his career with virtually unedited live tracks. And yet, somehow, the finished product is remarkably cohesive and polished, perhaps more polished than any of the records released by Harrod during his partnership with Brian Funck. This is clearly a transition album for Harrod, and that may account for its piecemeal qualities. He had been touring on his own for more than a year prior to the release of Living in Skin, but much of the material was written and/or recorded during the Harrod and Funck era. Funck remains a presence, playing guitar on several tracks and even singing backup on "Looming." Two tracks were recorded at a Harrod and Funck concert, and the recording sessions for the album were divided between the band's three largest fan bases: Wheaton, IL, where the duo went to college and started playing together; Boston, where they lived from 1992 until their breakup; and Grand Rapids, Michigan, where their intellectual Christian philosophy helped to win them a devoted following. But if Living in Skin was developed with the benefit of Harrod's Northeastern and Midwestern connections, it finds its spiritual center in his Southern roots. Harrod, who was raised in North Carolina, hasn't completely abandoned the contemporary folk vibe he perfected with his Chicagoan partner. But the solo album draws far more from Harrod's traditional folk and country influences than any of the Harrod and Funck records. The best track is "When I Get Home," an infectious foot-stomping bluegrass tune flavored with fiddle, mandolin, and old-fashioned hoe-down lyrics like "peaches in the summertime and apples in the fall/if I can't have you in my arms don't want no arms at all." "Waiting for My Day" is similarly countrified, laced with tasteful doses of twangy pedal steel. Throughout the album, Harrod uses his displaced country-boy nostalgia as a metaphor for his central theme of spiritual alienation, of "living in skin" while longing for an abandoned spiritual home. The album is full of lines like "take me where them rolling hills can gather up and cure my ills," "I think things would be better back down South," and "I'm weary and aching for my home." But the upbeat pop gloss of the opening "Siren Song" seems to suggest that Harrod's solo career, by bringing new freedom to indulge his Southern muse, marks something of a spiritual homecoming. It seems as if a flash of joy is audible as he sings "I'm out of here."