Charles Wesley Godwin - Seneca (2019)

The sense of place runs deep in the grooves of Seneca, the striking debut album by singer-songwriter Charles Wesley Godwin. This 11-song set paints a portrait of his home state of West Virginia that is instantly recognizable yet consistently surprising in its depth.

The music sounds like old-time country and folk music, reinforced with a rock backbone. The standard folk music instruments abound—acoustic guitar, harmonica, mandolin, banjo and fiddle can be heard throughout. But the songs make judicious use of piano, keyboards, electric guitar and horn, providing a subtle edge to many of the tracks.

And then there’s Godwin’s voice, deep and resonant and strong. He sings with a haunting quality reminiscent of Gordon Lightfoot, albeit with a mountain twang. But this is not soothing soft rock. The lyrics explore the dangers of mining and of making moonshine as well as the economic hardships faced by communities that depend upon an industry in decline. In telling those stories, Godwin’s voice sharpens to match the most dramatic moments.

The first two tracks drop the listener immediately into West Virginia. “Coal Country” is particularly evocative, a melancholy tune driven forward by piano and acoustic guitar and enriched with reeling fiddle riffs in the chorus and the instrumental break. The first lines of the tune describe the scene.

I’m going down to Charleston,
Through shadows of the mountains this road winds
The closed up towns, forgotten dreams and welcome signs, fading far behind
Coal country

These are not one-dimensional tales of despair, however. The lyrics also celebrate the countryside, the people who live there and the traditions of Appalachian life. The chorus of “Coal Country” takes pride in the way West Virginia mining has “put a roof over my head and armored the tanks at Normandy,” even as it has left towns in decline. On “(Windmills) Keep on Turning,” Godwin expresses the pride in place even more plainly.

It ain't all bad like I make it out, these hills are pretty damn high.
I can step out of my back door and get my supper every night.
Women round here ain’t the fickle kind, their word is their bond.
When they say I do, they mean for life, and they got your back when times get hard.

Godwin is a storyteller. “Seneca Creek,” the song from which the album’s title comes, is a widower’s bittersweet reflection on his life and his wife, who is buried above the creek by which they lived. “Sorry for the Wait” is a posthumous love-letter from a miner who lost his life. “The Last Bite,” which tells the tale of a moonshiner on a desperate run from the law, harbors a musical surprise—an instrumental section with a big riffs from keyboard, trumpet and electric guitar. The sound borders on progressive rock for a few moments, and it adds a punch of drama to an already-dramatic song.

Other tunes help to leaven the serious tone. For example, “Strawberry Queen,” a traditional hill country song, features a king’s ransom of puns in telling the tale of wooing the most beautiful woman around. “Hardwood Floors,” an upbeat tune with an old-time country music heart, is narrated by a husband looking forward to spending the evening at home with his wife.

Godwin’s wit and his ability to rock and roll shines on “Shrinks and Pills.” The song employs a rollicking beat and sharp dobro fills in service to a (possibly autobiographical) tale about the life of a singer-songwriter, traveling from place to place and struggling to make ends meet. The songs may not earn a lot of money, Godwin sings, but they “save on shrinks and pills.”

Put aside that self-deprecating assessment. The songs on Seneca deserve to be heard simply for the quality of the writing and the solid singing and playing throughout. The album offers an affecting portrait of a mountain homeland that may have more than its share of heartbreak but also has lots to love.