There are a few recurring themes on “Easy Crier,” Al Olender’s first full-length album. There’s dancing, for one, and using a TV screen to create distance from real-life feelings. There’s also a surprising amount of nausea brought on by all those real-life feelings. Together, they form a foundation of sorts for Olender’s music: there’s wry wit for fans of Amy Rigby, wrenching emotionalism that calls to mind Lynn Miles, and the sardonic common sense and understated determination of Stevie Budd from “Schitt’s Creek.” It’s a magnetic combination on “Easy Crier.”
At its core, Olender’s debut LP is about love, though it’s often refracted through a lens of grief. That means the Kingston, N.Y., singer and songwriter is sometimes laughing through her tears as she finds the dark humor in painful situations. One of those situations was her older brother’s funeral: on the punchy rocker “Keith,” a presumably well-meaning friend chooses that moment to unveil a new tattoo that features the name of Olender’s brother. “I turned away quick and got sick in a potted plant,” Olender sings, before addressing the person who’s there only in spirit: “I think you would just laugh.”
It’s one of several songs Olender sings to, or about, her sibling, who died unexpectedly at too young an age in circumstances that she doesn’t describe. She does make clear, however, how deeply she feels his loss. “You were always late / You needed more time,” Olender sings toward the end of “Keith,” before refocusing the line slightly the last time through: “I needed more time.” On album opener “All I Do Is Watch TV,” the music conveys her feelings as much as the lyrics. The song starts out simply as she picks out a part on acoustic guitar, and by the second refrain builds into an arrangement of drums, piano and guitars. The sound grows even bigger after a bridge section, resolving into an anthemic chorus stacked with backing vocals. It’s bold, resonant and cathartic, and it’s stick-in-your-head catchy, too.
Olender parses a different kind of grief on “Liar, Liar” and “Forget Your Number.” They’re songs about faltering relationships, and they show her skill with words and her knack for quietly somber, subtly elegant musical arrangements. The blend of finger-picked acoustic guitar and piano on “Liar, Liar” shifts in and out of waltz time, and eventually expands to include drums and electric guitar, but Olender’s voice remains the focal point. Even as she’s wrestling with hurt, she maintains a sense of humor: “Ate some fast food / Stayed at my parents’ place / Then I sent some nudes / Just to act my age,” she sings. By contrast, “Forget Your Number” stays quiet throughout, and Olender accompanies herself on acoustic guitar while singing softly, with a note of anguish in her voice, as she yearns for the strength to let go of someone who’s a bad fit. “I hope you move somewhere cold,” she sings.
Not every song on “Easy Crier” is downhearted. In fact, the lilting folk-rock title track brims with almost sheepish joy as she recounts an adventure in New York City with a friend that involved tattoos, dancing and hanging out “with some Omaha guys.” Olender offers up another glittering gem on the sultry “Djouliet,” which also mentions dancing and TV screens. A spare bassline and simple beat frame her voice, and the instrumental break between verses features sparks of piano by James Felice that bob and flash like fireflies on a perfect June night. (Felice, of the Felice Brothers, produced “Easy Crier” and also contributed accordion, keyboards and vocals. The other members of the band, Ian Felice, Jesske Hume and William Lawrence, also played on the album.)
Olender has said her starting point for these 10 songs was the idea that she would be fully honest with herself. Not only did she summon the courage to probe the dark corners of her psyche, she had the wherewithal to write it down, and the humor and grace to make it all so beautifully tuneful. The result is a first album that feels almost revelatory, from an artist who’s really just getting started.