The cover art gives the game away: two empty rocking chairs on a wooden porch, the sun sinking behind a blur of mountains, fairy lights strung overhead. It is the visual equivalent of a warm blanket, and the music keeps the promise. Ravenheart hail from Westminster, a suburb of Denver, and have spent years grafting a reputation in the city’s clubs. The sound is progressive country-rock with a folk-pop heart, filtered through the easy melodic generosity of Jack Johnson, Jason Mraz and John Mayer. Lesser bands would take that lineage as licence to coast. Ravenheart treat it as a standard to meet.<\/p>
Songwriter Matt Furman’s daughter had a habit of announcing, when she was especially content, that something had “made my heart smile.” She then found the phrase painted on a piece of art in a shop and carried it home like treasure. Furman wrote a poem, the poem became a song, and the song became a thank-you note to everyone who has ever done something small and kind without expecting applause. Such a premise is a minefield. Handled clumsily it curdles into greeting-card syrup. Furman steers clear by trusting plain words and letting them do the work. His central couplet, “When the world feels wild, you turn the noise to peace a little while,” is the sort of line that sounds obvious only after somebody has written it.<\/p>
The band understand their job here, which is to hold the door open for the lyric and then stay out of its way. Lenny Bolla’s lead guitar is tasteful and unhurried. Tommy McCallister’s keyboards add a soft, glowing wash. Kevin Fonte and Justin Vonn keep a rhythm section pulse that is steady rather than showy, the sound of two players who know that restraint is a form of confidence. Then comes Mal Kestin’s slide guitar, which I would happily follow anywhere. It sighs and swoops around the vocal like a hand resting on a shoulder, and it lends the whole thing a wide-skied, dusk-lit ache that no amount of studio polish could manufacture.<\/p> Which brings us to Travis Cole. His vocal was captured in a single continuous take at Furman’s home studio, and you can hear it. Nothing is tidied into submission. The phrasing breathes, leans and lingers where a real person would linger, and the small imperfections read as proof of life. In a pop landscape where voices are routinely smoothed to the sheen of a showroom floor, such honesty feels almost radical. Cole sings like a man talking to someone he loves across a kitchen table, and he never once oversells it.<\/span><\/p> This is a song about gratitude, written by people who plainly believe in gratitude, and it asks for nothing but a few minutes of your ears. That modesty is its glory. It reminds you that peace is rarely delivered by grand gestures and mostly arrives as a cup of tea, a held door, a text at the right moment.<\/span><\/p> “Make My Heart Smile” arrived on 16 September and leads the way for the album ‘I Can Only Wonder’, due 14 October. If the remaining tracks carry even half this warmth, Ravenheart may soon be too big for the Denver clubs that raised them. Pull up a rocking chair and listen.<\/span><\/p>\n\n\n\n\n
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