Review: Australia’s The Paper Kites Build Their Own Venue To Record ‘At The Roadhouse’

The Paper Kites
At the Roadhouse
(Nettwerk Music Group)
3 1/2 out of 5 stars

Over a decade into their career that has already yielded a platinum-selling US release, Australia’s The Paper Kites were looking for an innovative way to capture their lush, laconic, easy-flowing, and often bittersweet folk rock. The quintet, fronted by singer/songwriter Sam Bentley and singer/keyboardist Christina Lacy, decided to produce their next collection in a roadhouse. That’s an odd choice for an outfit that creates music far removed from the typically rowdy rocking those rough-and-tumble joints epitomize.

Regardless, they found what they were looking for in the tiny Aussie town of Campbell’s Creek (population 2,071). The building was once a supply store for local gold miners that had fallen into disrepair. Refurbishing and renaming it The Roadhouse, they opened the venue to the public, becoming the weekend house band.  

After writing and performing new material in front of a well-oiled crowd of locals, the Kites recorded those compositions, live to tape, without an audience, in a studio behind the club. “The whole point was to try and connect with people, and in turn develop a sense of community around the music…” says Bentley. The results are on this appropriately titled album featuring 16 tunes that unwind in a generous 80 minutes.

The opening bar chatter provides the atmosphere as the group slides into the subtle, countrified “Midnight Moon,” sounding like a combination of old Poco or Eagles at their most relaxed, mixed with the laid-back shrug of Cowboy Junkies. It’s exquisite, enticing, even alluring music and sets the tone for the following similarly crafted sounds.

Hints of blues, jazz, and country entwine in stories that illuminate the vulnerability of a lover moving away (“Marietta”), the vagaries of romance (the slowly swelling, banjo-infused “Hurts So Good” –not the John Mellencamp song) and a couple hitting the road to escape their dead-end lives (“June’s Stolen Car”), the latter a tough Neil Young-inspired rocker and one of the few upbeat tracks.

Bentley’s shy, retiring voice captures the longing, yearning, and general discontent of the characters populating his songs as the trickling melodies follow that lead. The closing “Darkness at My Door” (recorded in front of an audience) finds a comfy Band-like groove that plays like a tribute to those guys.

There’s a lot here and even though the vibe varies slightly, nearly 90 minutes of it gets monotonous.

Perhaps cutting about half these selections would make this tighter. But, taken in smaller doses, the pieces are superbly written, the playing and singing are organic and the moody approach floats, soars, and spirals like the airborne objects in The Paper Kites’ name. 

Photo courtesy Shorefire