Marcus King Finds Soul Salvation in 'Mood Swings'

Marcus King fans may be in for a bit of a surprise when his new record drops. The South Carolina native built his success on the two-point growl of his voice and the chilling, spacious strum of his guitar, placing him squarely in the southern jam-band tradition. King's last LP, 2022 New blood, was a solid '70s guitar-rock ensemble recorded with throwback expertise at Dan Auerbach's Easy Eye Studio in Nashville. On his new one, he's teamed up with another production titan, Rick Rubin, who helps King shake things up and bring out the soulful side of his sound — leaning less on guitar and more on piano, strings and vocal stylings R&B.

Just check Mood swings' title track, with its gentle pulse and flexible, subtle acoustic and electric guitar. Here, King's voice drops to a whisper as he pleads, “let me explain,” before outlining the challenges of opening his heart honestly. When the guitar solo comes in, it's a careful late-night benediction, not a searing statement.

This isn't entirely new ground for King. The 2015 debut album was named Soul Insightand has developed horn sections and sumptuous grooves on songs like “Rita Is Gone,” from the Marcus King Band's self-titled 2016 album, and “8 AM,” a ballad from the 2018 set Carolina Confessions. Usually, though, he folds these textures into hard rock & roll. This time, it's deeper in the pocket. “F*ck My Life Up Again” has strings and a dark, taut lite-funk groove worthy of a Sade track, with King's voice stretched out like Adele in radiant suffering mode. “Inglewood Motel (Halestorm)” screams a “sweet little angel” over a taut studio jam made of Steve Wonder-esque squished keyboards, a bouncy beat and swaying horns. It's topped off by a scorching Prince-ly guitar solo, as if channeling the organic neo-soul synergy D'Angelo invented in the '90s. “Hero” moves gracefully between country, soft-rock and soul, a bit Chris Stapleton-esque, with King leaning into the groove with relaxed grace even as he does so.

Rubin's production provides a sensitive, characteristically subtle backing for King, at times bringing to mind Philly Soul and the earthier side of Hi Records without sounding anything like retro copy-paste. That's a good thing, because King has his own, very modern use for these vintage settings. Where he could have played the quiet lover or the tough guy, he instead goes for something much bolder, vulnerable and open-hearted.

“I hope this album can act as a safety net, rescue or refuge for anyone struggling with mental health, substance abuse or relationship issues,” he said of the project, which is shaped in part by his own struggles with addiction and mental health. . health problems. On “Bipolar Love,” a spare, tender ballad that's just his acoustic guitar, light keys and congas, he compares a trusted companion to a “first responder.” On 'Save Me' he sings poignantly about how a new relationship has literally restored his will to keep going: “for the first time I remember, oh, I'm scared to death,” he sings.

The album is full of moments like this, where the lyrical conventions of a hand-crafted genre come alive with genuine personal urgency. Against the acoustic coffee glow of “Soul It Screams,” he sings, “I just need somewhere to sleep tonight/Somewhere that feels safe,” while describing his own struggles with feeling accepted: “as for me, you'll run always from anyone who ever tried to help.”

That safe space may be a lover's arms, but it's clear that he's also looking for something symbolic: a place to feel restored and comforted despite his doubts and dark emotional passages — in his own life and the lives of his own listeners too.