Sam Russo – Storm

England has a long history of creating and developing punk bands. After all, the biggest punk band of all time came from London and the UK doesn’t seem to be stopping anytime soon and are still releasing records that made a splash overseas. While it’s impossible to group anything together into one cohesive unit (for every Gallows there’s The Arteries, for every Caves, there’s a Sharks and each offer a great option), there is a string of acoustic acts from overseas making a name for themselves stateside. Biggest is, of course, Frank Turner while The Great Cynics are slowly building a strong following as well. Now, you can safely add Sam Russo to that list of great British exports.

Storm, Russo’s first proper full length, comes from the quality people at Red Scare Industries but is a markedly different sound than the Chicago-based label is known for. This isn’t your scrappy pop-punk or gruff mid-western style onslaught. Instead this is a slow, soothing, singer-songwriter with a crisp voice and bare bones songs that aren’t much on paper but soars on record.

On Storm, Russo sings with confidence, nearing perfection. It’s like Sam Baker without years of cigarettes destroying his vocals chords. It’s a more mature Giles Bidder or perhaps a slightly toned downChuck Ragan. He consistently uses his voice to compliment the rise in intensity of his solo instrument. Unafraid to alter the tempo and volume of his delivery, Russo ebbs and flows as necessary going from whispers to singing his heart out in a mere couplet.

And yet, it doesn’t seem like he’s even trying.

It all comes easy, or it seems that way – like he just picked up the guitar and began singing about his life. It’s familial and real, relatable and sincere –a feat that many singer-songwriters fail to accomplish. Moreso, the level of maturity makes Storm stand out as well; for while there are songs about failed relationships, the songs are of an older nature.

It’s no longer “he cheated on me” but rather “he doesn’t want to have kids.” They are tales of conversations over coffee, working three jobs at once, buying beers with the last of your cash or the hardships of a factory job. The lyrics read like stories, and lines like “We were born where dreams go to die, and it’s so easy to forget how it feels to be alive” seem all the more sincere.

All of it seems mature, somehow nostalgic and real as Storm will surely ensure people talk of Russo for years to come.