WILL STUCKY: Familiar Frontier

This review marks the twentieth I have written for the San Diego Troubadour, and this one, in particular, has been difficult. The album hit me profoundly in so many ways, I just didn’t even know where to start or if I could do it justice. This one rises above; it floats, it soars, and it dives into depths I’d forgotten about. It pulls on my heart and draws out my tears. I walk around with every song playing over and over in my head. They are the last things on my mind before I let go into sleep. They are my current constant companion, and I tuck in and relish them. I’ll just say it up front here, if you haven’t listened, you must go do it now…I’ll wait.

At just under 54 minutes, Familiar Frontier is 12 songs, all written, recorded, and produced by Stucky and co-produced and mixed by Ben Grace; Robbie Robinson did the mastering. Some exceptional artists contributed to four of the songs—I’ll talk about their work a little later—but otherwise, it’s all him, and he is a boundless well from which magic springs, fresh and pure. I can’t identify all the sounds or effects I hear because he plays his computer like an unearthly symphony. Much of his arrangements start off bare-bones simple, just his voice and one accompanying instrument, and build from there. He knows just when to bring in another voice, be it his own or that of some other musical device. The recording is exquisite. Stucky’s voice is up front and clear yet never overpowers. His tone and mannerisms blend perfectly with his instrumentation to create an atmosphere for each song. The whole album already feels timeless.

All right, time to get on with it now. I’m not going to talk about every song, and it won’t be in play order, it’ll just be in the order they struck me.

“Come Out” begins with what sounds like a piano playing an arpeggio, but then I hear a slight string squeak, revealing it’s actually an acoustic guitar. He’s running it through strong tremolo and a range of other effects. He sings slow, uncomplicated lyrics in unison with himself; it’s warm, rich, and gentle. He repeats the last line of the first verse in a half-whisper. The openness of the arrangement and his doubled voice feel so heart-wrenchingly intimate that it makes me squint. After another verse, the chorus breaks open with lush instrumentation and sparse hits on a snare and bass, supporting his voice as it splits now into multi-part harmonies. All but the piano and drums drop out for the third verse, then it builds again in the fourth. You’ve engineered the long way out, thank the bridge; burn it down. A quick roll on toms brings us back to a chorus that is even bigger than the last. At 3:41, all the instruments are silent for a split second as a multitude of voices burst through, followed by single counter hits on toms, filling every space, until suddenly, at 3:52, everything changes. The sound is like an old radio or a carnival. The arpeggio is now clearly on guitar, but the strings are not finely tuned, and they buzz against the frets; it’s magnificent. The piano accents here and there, then everything falls silent.

In a perfect audio follow-up to the previous song, “I Don’t Know” opens like a track from 1934, playing scratchy on a turntable. The instruments are sustained and swirling; the reverb is huge on Stucky’s voice. The melody is haunting, like I’ve known it forever, and it makes me think of that closing scene in The Shining, when the music swells and you finally realize that Jack was betrayed. The lyrics play that game too. All of my emotions are on edge for no fucking reason. I could blame it on the season, blame it on my past, but the truth is I’ve suppressed these feelings, so they wouldn’t last. The sound clears up for that last line and he sings it a cappella. It makes me cry hard every time. Undistorted three-quarter-time fingerpicking on acoustic guitar takes over the accompaniment as Stucky sings alone for the next verse and chorus, where the album’s title origin is soon revealed: Taking it out on the loved ones surrounding us, guess it’s familiar frontier. We’re just reacting to what came before, but you’ve helped me to see it more clear. Stucky plays flowery multi-track strings to usher in the next verse. Once again, his choices and the flow of the arrangement contribute to the vintage sound. Little bits of piano and strings fill in between the guitar on the final chorus with a repeated melodic line with a variation on the lyrics: Yeah, we’re all reacting to what came before we knew how good it is to be here.

Quiet percussion and acoustic guitar start off “Situationship.” At a slightly more upbeat tempo, Stucky sings about the confusion and complacency in looking for love. The first two verses are full of “maybes” that reinforce the theme with all the same old questions we ask ourselves. The chorus starts, Blah blah blah, this situationship given the doubt of our benefit. Those three words were originally just placeholder text, but in the end, they turned out to be exactly the right sentiment. Unlike “Scrambled Eggs” by The Beatles, they were a stroke of genius. Another verse and then the chorus returns—this time with Stucky’s multi-track harmonies, along with electric guitar and piano fills that lead me willingly to the next line, like we’re comfortably holding hands. But in a twist, electric guitar distorts and grinds—slow and harsh—on the bridge, as the lyrics refocus on the futility of love, where effort doesn’t always meet expectation. It closes with a revision on the last line of the chorus: Blah blah blah, fuck this situation…shit! It never plays out to go through with it.

Piano sets a moody tone for “Honestly” as it loosely echoes the melody. Acoustic guitar joins in for a line just before Stucky sings and then follows him in the melody, fluidly, rolling and moving like time. His phrasing feels haphazard at times, yet still in keeping with the motion. The song talks about the past and the now, of letting go and finally arriving. Never felt this safe with no one. Never knew my own emotion, honestly. Maybe you’re my only way out of here, only it doesn’t feel like escaping; it feels like home. Stucky’s voice is like a wind-chime, pure and resonant, effortlessly gliding from sweet high notes down through the register, gently pushing forward with the guitar toward acceptance. More than once, I shake my head in wonder at all it contains and lets go. The bridge is an abstract collaboration between his voice and the piano in unison that leads to the last verse: And I would choose you 10 times over, light a candle, kiss your shoulder, and fall asleep, and feel at home. Beginning at 4:38, he repeats “home” over and over while the guitar strumming becomes erratic and chunky, and grows in intensity. At 5:07, the piano alone plays one line of the melody and then drifts off trippingly in soothing, sporadic notes, until finally arriving at what feels like “good night.”

“Those Words” begins with insistent strumming and picking on acoustic guitar that urges the listener to actually hear what he’s trying to say. In fact, that’s the whole point of it. Stucky’s voice is strong, sliding easily from head voice to chest, and stylistically breaks in places emphasizing his stance. The verses carry me with a strong melody, but when the chorus hits, the tune twists and bends into something else. It lifts me up in its resolve, both lyrically and musically. And how can you explain exactly why I’m feeling this way, when you put words in my mouth and start speaking, I know it’s what you think that I’m thinking, but those words, they’re not exactly what I’m trying to say. Sparse piano and Stucky’s harmonies join the guitar at the second verse. At 2:46, Harley Eblen comes in on strings for an extended bridge, continuing at 3:33 with an instrumental section featuring strings, piano, and guitar that builds pleasingly until it breaks into the chorus, sung twice, before closing.

Other tracks on the album are the upbeat opener, “Alright OK,” about learning to take chances. I’ve been thinkin’ ‘bout movin’ this dance to the middle of the floor. I know you’ll find it amusing, so say less, I’ll give a little bit more. “Alibi” is another up-tempo number and features Jules Stewart on drums, Lauren Leigh on backing vocals, and Harley Magsino on bass, who also played on the Beatles-esque “Dammit I’m Wrong” and “People Pleaser,” along with Tony Econom on drums. Additional tracks are “Happier on Your Own,” which takes us through the stages of ending a relationship and coming out the other side in acceptance. “God Made the Devil (And He Called It Good)” is made up of five verses, without a chorus or bridge, and delves into some religious themes. Stucky and I both have our history in that, and it shows up in my songs as well. This one says: Love fights hard, but she don’t fight fair. Love compliments and then cuts your hair. Makes demands and then switches sides. She builds you up and then hurts your pride. Love fights hard, no she don’t fight fair. And finally, “Doomsday,” which is all about Stucky’s father, their inside jokes, and the loss of him: Still can’t believe it’s so.

Do yourself a favor and listen to Will Stucky as much as you can, you will thank me. His music is available on all streaming platforms. Visit his website at willstucky.com for his calendar, lyrics, photos, merch, and other projects.

This album has been nominated for Best Local Recording by the San Diego Music Awards, which takes place on April 29 at Humphrey’s.