Recorded in 2011, when Robert Ellis was 22, Photographs has taken some time to reach Australian shores. More’s the pity.
Ellis’ debut record is a masterclass in folk-country songwriting with an emotional complexity that belies his youth.
The album is essentially split into two sides. Side A is dominated by stripped-back outlaw country in the mould of Townes Van Zandt and Willie Nelson with Ellis making excellent use of Nelson’s behind-the-beat singing style at various points.
These tracks, in particular “Bamboo” and “Cemetery”, offer melancholic, nostalgic meditations based around lyrically complex extended metaphors, reminiscent of the best of Jackson Browne.
Ellis delivers these emotionally devastating tracks with little ornamentation, just the occasional peddle steel or string flourish tumbleweeding across his acoustic guitar.
Ellis’ vocals seem crushed by the weight of emotion, his breathy, nasal drawl almost expressionless as he delivers his gripping vignettes; rarely does his voice creep into the upper register, but when it does (see “Cemetery”) you get the sense that his plain-spoken vocals are tempered by a desperate restraint.
The road-weary “Westbound Train” brilliantly marks the turning point of the album, opening as a pensive ballad, before Ellis’ backing band emerges with freight-train rhythm.
Side B discards the mystique and subtlety of the earlier tracks in favour of a more up-tempo country sound. It is here that the album loses its way.
Photographs runs off the tracks with “No Fun”, a track that, despite its attempt at satire, embodies country music’s worst tendency toward redneck misogyny.
While some latter parts of the album do evoke classic Gram Parsons, the second half is a disappointment. Despite that, Ellis demonstrates a devastating grasp of songcraft that is wildly beyond his years. He is an artist worth watching.
