“Wanna be heard, not ignored,” sings Spencer Mackenzie on the title track of album number four, and right there you get the sense that this isn’t just another blues-rock record quietly passing through the night. This is a statement. A confident, assured, magnificent one.
The opener “Empty Chairs” sets the tone perfectly — full of soul, swagger and skill. And that’s before we even get to the other ‘S’: the solo. Classy, emotive, and placed exactly where it needs to be. Add in the way Mackenzie deploys backing vocals — lifting, shading, never cluttering — and yes, if Joe Bonamassa crosses your mind, you’re not alone.
If you think that comparison might slow things down, “Trip” immediately disabuses you of the idea. More energetic, more forceful, this one stomps. It’s Mackenzie throwing the doors wide open and saying, very clearly, this is what I do. And he’s not joking.
By the time “What You Do” arrives, there’s no point pretending we’re building to a verdict later — this is already brilliant. Magnificent, even. There’s a familiar feel here too, and if you’re thinking of MV favourites The Commoners, you’re on the right track: their guitarist Ross Hayes Citrullo produces the album, with various Commoners alumni appearing along the way. But this is no side project, no borrowed shine. Mackenzie stands entirely on his own terms.
“Don’t Know Where I’m Going” underlines just how deep those terms go. He sounds like an old troubadour from the Deep South, yet he’s actually a young man from Ontario, already ten years into a decorated career and stacked with Canadian awards. Taking on a Rory Gallagher song is no small thing — doing it this effortlessly is something else entirely.
There’s a relaxed, classy contentment to “Till I Get to You”, before “Frozen Hearts” delivers one of the album’s true high points. Mackenzie’s playing here is simply magnificent — no other word for it — as the song builds patiently, driven by the guitar and the muscular, tasteful rhythm work of Miles Evans-Branagh (another Commoners connection). It swells, it breathes, it lands.
“Helping Hands” shows a darker grin. “Goodbye, I’ll show you out the door,” he sings — and you can hear the relish in it. That edge carries into “Why”, where Mackenzie once again proves — like that aforementioned JB — that the mellower moments are often where he shines brightest. There’s even a subtle touch of funk running through it.
“Shoot Me Down” taps into a classic blues feel without ever sounding dated, a trick far harder than it looks, while “Won’t Find Her” proves there are no throwaway moments lurking in the deeper cuts. She done him wrong — and in the blues, wasn’t it ever thus?
Closing track “Evil” rounds things off beautifully. Even when she’s evil, there’s hope in the guitar — that sense that life, for all its mess, can’t be all bad. It’s a fitting way to end a record that balances grit with grace so effortlessly.
Early on, I used the words soul, skill and swagger. If record reviews really could be reduced to just three words, I’d happily stop right there — because when it comes to Spencer Mackenzie, that’s genuinely all you need to know.
Oh, and one more thing.
“Empty Chairs” is magnificent.
Make sure you know that too.
Rating: 9/10
