image courtesy of Dan Cloutier

Album Review of Dan Cloutier: The Iceberg

Dan Cloutier‘s The Iceberg, released last spring, followed a year of traveling that took him to Greenland and Newfoundland “to find icebergs and record music.” Indeed, two of the album’s eleven tracks were recorded in Ilulissat, Greenland, and one was recorded in St John’s, Newfoundland, thanks at least in part to the help of Dan’s Kickstarter campaign.

Dan’s songs are accessible and fall into a variety of buckets. Some are stripped-down, primarily guitar-and-vocal (or banjo-and-vocal) numbers that connect on a personal level. Others add a bit more instrumentation, with richer arrangements that draw upon varied styles and influences, but they, too, connect on a personal level. So I guess that’s a common theme. Dan also notes that “the music is all about finding hope during dark seasons of life. Like an iceberg, you cannot see what is underneath.” Indeed, hopefulness is another common theme.

The record is bookended by “The Iceberg” and “Iceberg II,” the two songs recorded in Greenland. On them, Dan’s banjo-work produces a memorable melody, while his lyrics and the background vocals provide a warmth perhaps not often found in such a barebones production.

The Newfoundland-produced song is near the end of the album. That song, “Chainmail,” is a pleasant, ’round-the-campfire encourager that may appeal particularly to the dungeons and dragons set (including those of us who dabbled with it lightly in high school). Or fans of medieval books and movies. Or those of us who simply enjoy a good metaphor. The song is built around the line “make me some chainmail for my soul,” with I guarantee is infinitely cooler than any chainmail reference we made as teenagers. The song is pleasantly-sung and likely to be a broadly-appreciated favorite. (Yes, it’s my personal favorite song, among many I really enjoy, on the record.)

The music and lyrics on this disc are thoughtfully-penned and successfully convey emotions, living up to Dan’s mission of identifying hope. Songs like “I Want to Feel Your Broken Heart Beating” and “Every Breath We Take is Holy” are such songs. Other songs like “Good Kind of Failure” and “Take Your Next Step” are more mid-tempo and directly encouraging.

At times, providing additional variety – a feature that makes this album an easy beginning-to-end listen – Dan amps things up even more with fun acoustic-rockers like “Windshield Wipers,” which implores his windshield wipers to move faster (though the lyrics are metaphorical, too, so it’s not just a song about car parts) and the edgy, acoustic alt-rocker “Synapses Fire.”

Finally – though not “finally,” since it’s song three – it’s worth noting “Rocky Shore,” a song whose melody and style are that of a sea shanty, a bit of a drinking song, regaling the rocky shore. Just a fun, additional song-style thrown in for good measure. And performed impeccably.

As a whole, The Iceberg is a fun record. Its songs vary enough to make its eleven tracks an easy listen. If you’re wearing black while listening to this record, your wardrobe will clash hopelessly with the incessant hopefulness of The Iceberg, but dressing in bright colors (or imagining you did, if putting on a new shirt is too much work for you) is a small price to pay to enjoy Dan Cloutier’s exceptional collection of songs. If you’re looking for a soft-to-mid-tempo, thoughtful, hopeful, not-quite-mellow but definitely mellow-adjacent record, check out The Iceberg.