Richmond, Virginia-based singer-songwriter Kyle Davis crafts an emotively resonant sound across Jericho, his seventh studio album. A seamless rock and folk cohesion envelops within themes of personal loss and the perseverance needed to overcome. “As I look back on making Jericho, I realize that creating records is a form of therapy for me,” Davis says. “Not every song is entirely first-person, but the themes of grief, resilience and reflection are universal. I hope these songs help listeners feel a connection to their own journeys.” Davis is also joined by a very talented cast of musicians, re-uniting the team from his 1999 Sony debut, Raising Heroes.
Album opener “The Last Line” melds soul-searching introspection and twanging rock ardency, capturing challenges within life and the perseverance required to conquer them. Davis’ vocal range is especially gripping, from the solemn deepness of the “moth drawn to the lights,” comparisons to the soaring enthusiasm that follows; the latter’s ascent depicts going “down these roads,” amidst acknowledgements that “no one ever said this would be easy.” Right away, Jericho establishes a sincere and relatable sound, tendencies that don’t let up throughout.
The ensuing “On a Ledge” consumes with an initial piano-led traversal, attaining a hooky rock-forward invigoration upon a memorable title-referencing chorus. “Maybe the laughter will return again in time,” Davis laments, artfully conveying the weight of obscured personal struggles. “It was never quite like this before I lost you,” continue the accounts of being personally broken following tragedy; the subsequent “soldier,” bridge is particularly enthralling, fully showcasing Davis’ knack for sharply impactful structural twists and turns — weaving in cohesively following approachable rock songwriting.
The title track is a heartfelt continuation of themes within “On a Ledge” — with both capturing feelings of personal tumult, and also the resulting drive to prevail. While “On a Ledge” is more in-the-moment relative to the anguish, “Jericho” exudes a more optimistic glow to put those pieces back together, even if they don’t fit entirely like they used to. “Not all of them fit together the same way anymore, but enough do,” Davis says of the prominent theme throughout the album and its title track, which is complemented by gorgeous brass and wordless vocal harmonies past its three-minute turn.
Finale “Passengers” is another display of Davis’ fantastic songwriting. “Walk, don’t run, be home before dark,” his opening vocals beckon, reminiscent of Peter Gabriel in its tone and poetic momentum. The emission of warming nostalgia — and how one “can get lost in this world in many ways,” — feels poignant following the album’s moving themes, largely depictive of adulthood obstacles and wondering “how did life become such a mess?” alongside conveyances of feeling lost. Consuming from start to finish, Jericho is a stirring overall success from Kyle Davis.
