Dream Again

Sad/Satisfied

Charleston

The Future Ain't What It Used To Be

Reach The Top

M. Lockwood Porter's Communion in the Ashes is a rallying cry for the hopeless and heartbroken, its lyrics set to a soundtrack of anthemic heartland rock & roll. This is a record that addresses our modern-day social problems from a perspective of hope, encouraging those who listen to focus on activism and community-building rather than despair. Along the way, Porter delivers some of the most engaging, electrifying songs of his career, rooting these melodic calls-to-action in the stomp and epic swagger of a five-piece road band. 

With Communion In The Ashes, Porter crystallizes a sound that is uniquely his own: one that gatecrashes the borders between indie rock & roll, singer/songwriter folk, and Americana. Written alone on the acoustic guitar and recorded with Porter's band during a collaborative, five-day studio session in Chico, CA, the album champions togetherness as an antidote to the immense problems we face as a society. On the kinetic title track, a kick drum bangs out a steady pulse while Porter unveils his game plan: "When the bridges are all burned, let's congregate the masses, let's hold a new communion in the ashes." The song doesn't turn a blind eye to the desperation of today's world; instead, it builds something new from the rubble, transforming desolation into hope. A similar feeling imbues the piano-propelled "I Will Do No More A-Prayin’," a secular hymn that nods to Porter's childhood days in the Southern Baptist church. If "I Will Do No More A-Prayin’" evokes the solemnity of Sunday morning, though, the bulk of Communion in the Ashes rustles up the thrill of Saturday night. There are furiously strummed power chords, pounding percussion, vocal harmonies, and 80s-inspired synthesizers, shot through with a voice that's urgent, compelling, and quick to incite. These are songs about revolution and rebuilding, and Porter sings them accordingly, his voice echoing and rattling its way between the electric guitars and upright piano.

Given the album's communal emphasis, it's appropriate that Communion in the Ashes is also Porter's most collaborative release. All five band members contributed to the arrangement process, with drummer Peter Labberton pulling triple-duty as the album's engineer and mixer. The band worked swiftly, foregoing rehearsal in favor of instinctual performances and quick studio decisions. "Get Back to the Wild," the one song not recorded live, gave the band a chance to experiment, building a two-bar drum and piano loop into a spiritually-minded song that examines the distance between human nature and human society. Porter and company looked to their own influences for cues, too, with Communion's touchstones running the gamut from Leonard Cohen’s inventive songwriting and Tom Petty's concise melodies to Wilco's experimentation and War on Drugs' gorgeously textured tones. Even so, this is the most distinctive release in M. Lockwood Porter's catalog — an album that both nods to the past and pushes forward to the future, thanks in part to a full-band attack that lends fire, ferocity, and grit to the tracklist. 

Throughout Communion In The Ashes, Porter’s electrifying “dystopian gospel band” explores how frightening our world can be. The record’s enthralling cover art — designed by William Schaff, known for his longtime association with Songs: Ohia's Jason Molina — shines a light on that horrifying present, depicting a man (A preacher? An organizer? A demagogue?) addressing a crowd from the foreground of a burning, decaying city. With its Springsteen-sized catharsis, though, Communion in the Ashes offers listeners something new: a soundtrack with which to rise up, rebuild, and renew. Call it protest music if you'd like. Call it a political album if you must. Whatever the description, Communion in the Ashes packs the strongest punch of Porter's career, capturing not just one man's reaction to the present day, but an entire community's opportunity to better their own tomorrows.