The most unique sound that reaches the ear upon listening to “Roots” isn’t the sinewy, snaking interplay of percussion and bass, or the empyrean voices wafting through the ether. Nor is it the watery warbling guitars, skewed tinkling of toy piano, drowsily yawning horns or reedy wheezes of accordion, though those rich sonic textures definitely aren’t the makings of just any old song. The rarest sound is that of an artist and a truly wise man describing the soil in which he’s grounded his soul through the changing seasons.
Oh, men like these, they are just like trees planted near streams of water…
That artist and wise man is Shawn McDonald and his chronicle of lived wisdom is Roots, a collection of 12 transparent meditations on the divine sustenance that feeds the soul, his third dispatch from the studio and fifth overall album. These earthy folk-soul pearls explore elements that the 29 year old Oregon-raised, Seattle-based singer-songwriter has learned are essential for life, health and growth—clear, uninterrupted vision; fear-shattering trust; delight in truly good things rather than stomach-sickening junk; an unhurried rhythm of life that embraces each season as it comes; the contentment to hold whatever God brings in an open hand.
If Simply Nothing—McDonald’s 2004 debut—was the cathartic cry of a young man who’d traveled darkened paths alone only to be stared in the face with his desperate need for God, and Ripen was the raw-hearted vignette of a young man stretched by the weight of new responsibilities, then Roots is a portrait of that same man, perched on the cusp of 30, savoring the wealth of lessons learned through marriage (he and his wife Kate are entering their third year), new fatherhood (baby boy Cohen Reid McDonald arrived in April) and a pilgrimage to a foreign land (Zimbabwe, to be exact). You might call it musical wisdom literature of a sort. “This is the message that I want to come across: being a man that flourishes in Christ,” he shares. “For me it was a time of rejoicing in the growth that I feel like God has put into my life.”
McDonald is known for lending his fluid, breathy rasp to intoxicatingly passionate spiritual anthems (a quick visit to YouTube reveals just how many listeners have identified strongly enough with his songs to pick up a guitar and belt them out themselves). This new batch still contains plenty that could unite a roomful of voices in intimate communion with God, but songs like “Clarity”—with its syncopated, stop-on-a-dime acoustic groove—and “Greed”—best described as folk-funk seasoned with cursive strings and banjo—display a deepening and broadening of his artistic voice.
Incidentally, both songs were inspired by McDonald’s transformative experiences in Zimbabwe. “I’m a fan of perspective-changing. I’m a fan of seeing things through different eyes.” That’s exactly what happened when the artist and his wife opened their hearts to their African surroundings. “Here these people have complete need—they need medicine, they need food, they need education; they need all these things,” reflects McDonald about the impetus for the song “Greed.” “But what I found in these people was peace and joy, that somehow despite all the needs they still retain this sense of life that I don’t always experience in the States, and for me that was really profound.”
McDonald’s Zimbabwe experience was only one of the nutrients feeding his songwriting on Roots. The artist plunged deeper into the fertile soil of scripture than ever before, concluding the album with a trio of songs firmly planted in scriptural ground. “Time” echoes the wisdom of Ecclesiastes 3—a reminder that God has created various seasons within the cycle of life. “Shadowlands”—previously included on McDonald’s Scattered Pieces: Live—borrows from Psalm 23 to confess faith in the midst of danger. “Hallelujah” comes like a gorgeous exhale at the album’s close: his hushed voice is born aloft on a regal swell of strings, as he moves between meditation on the virtues lauded in the Beatitudes (found in Matthew 5) and wholehearted assent to those divine truths. As the music fades, he can still be heard singing, as if to say ‘Let the meditation on these things continue even after the last note has rung.’ “In my experience, sometimes scripture says it in a way that’s way more powerful than I can say it,” McDonald explains.
Roots also marks the first time he’s done much collaborating in songwriting. “I think with the past records it was almost a sense of pride—I just didn’t want other people’s names on it,” he shares. “With this record, I came into it with a new mindset. I just want to make the best art that I can make, and if that means that I sometimes have other ideas given to me by other people, then I guess that’s what I’m going to do.” Songs like “Slow Down” are the best of both worlds—McDonald’s hallmark soul-bearing honesty delving into new territory. The short, spare tune—co-written with Ben Glover—speaks from their wives’ perspectives, offering a rare glimpse into the often hurried, harried home life of a touring musician. Throughout the song, crackling—like that of a dusty, old phonograph—hearkens back to a slower, simpler time, and the music’s lulling pulse literally slows at the end.
