Jeff Hodges’ I Believe enters the world with a press release full of signifiers. This is an Americana-country ballad with all of the typical modern saints in mind spanning Zach Bryan, Chris Stapleton and Leon Bridges, arriving complete with respectable streaming numbers, a burgeoning live performance series dubbed the N4KED MAN Sessions, and a biography so broad it can accommodate time in Nashville, ownership of a recording studio, and eventual relocation to the Turks and Caicos. All useful information if one is trying to piece together an artist profile. It’s nearly entirely useless if you’re trying to determine if the song itself is any good.
Fortunately, I Believe does much to steer clear of a common pitfall for modern Americana music; confusing restraint with personality. There’s a species of acoustic singer-songwriter music which seems convinced that sincerity is achieved through subtraction. Guitar comes in. A brushed snare makes a midway appearance. Somebody warbles in a way which sounds so weathered they appear to have spent considerable time staring at a body of water. You can hear the genericness already.
I Believe avoids falling prey to such tactics, but a careful turn of performance keeps Hodges grounded. The arrangement is of a determined sparseness, based primarily on acoustic guitar and light percussion, with enough ambiance to prevent the production from sounding like the remnants of an aborted demo.
The melody unfolds at a leisurely, unhurried pace that sidesteps any enormous, crotch-punching refrain likely to find its way on contemporary country radio. Rather, Hodges prefers Mount Eerie-style conversational turns of phrase. He approaches his lines as if they’re observations during an evening commute, rather than grand, bold assertions. Those unvarnished tendencies fit well with the theme.
I Believe is essentially an effort in sustaining those tiny certainties which one collects over a lifetime- faith in people, in human connection, and the fact that one’s smallest moments matter as much as the truly remarkable ones. It feels sincere without verging on cloying; a trick more songwriting professionals realize they do not pull than they admit. On some occasions, the piece could be more expansive. The chord progression is rarely unexpected, and any who favor the emotional outpourings of Stapleton or the hyper-specific detail work of Zach Bryan will likely lament the relative lack of textual richness. The lyrics hint at profound revelations, though tend to ultimately land on broadly recognizable sentiments.
Not every song has to be innovative to warrant a listen. Some songs just work by being themselves. I Believe isn’t an arena singalong or the foundation of an algorithmic single. Some songs just make a good soundtrack to the over-easy conversation with someone you’ve known for years; familiar, comfortable and perfectly dated.
Follow Jeff Hodges
About the Author
A tenured media critic known working as a ghost writer, freelance critic for various publications around the world, the former lead writer of review blogspace Atop The Treehouse and content creator for Manila Bulletin.
