On the title track to his sophomore effort, Supply and Demand, singer/songwriter Amos Lee sings, "Baby I need a plan to help me understand, that life ain't only supply and demand." If the supply and demand Lee is referring to is money, success, and power -- and it clearly is -- then the stuff he truly values here is the currency of freedom, love, and sympathy for your fellow man. It's just such yin-yang subject matter that has driven folksingers to set struggle to melody ever since Depression-era scufflers like Woody Guthrie pointed out how America was technically "made for you and me" and not just those in the nice suits. For the most part, Lee is on about the same stuff here, although his vantage point is the more stylish, if no less lonely, tour bus and not a dust bowler's flatbed truck. Nonetheless, Lee is a heartfelt songwriter with an R&B crooner's sense of romance and drama and a real knack for turning his own ennui into anthems for the average guy. He tackles wars of various stripes on "Freedom" and like John Mayer's "Waiting on the World to Change," the song finds Lee deftly threading the political needle with lines like "Don't want to blame the rich for what they got or point a finger at the poor for what they have not" and "Freedom is seldom found by beatin' someone to the ground." It's a catchy stump speech of a tune and, three songs in, lifts the album up from just pleasant into something truly welcome and unexpected. Similarly engaging is the sanguine, slow ballad "Careless," which mixes the Band's "The Night We Drove Old Dixie Down" and Crosby, Stills & Nash's "Helpless" into a gut-wrenching and artful self-indictment of infidelity. However, it's the low-key and darkly sweet "Night Train" that should remain as not just the album's best cut, but Lee's signature song. Hypnotically simple, the song hangs on the chorus with Lee's candid omission, "I've been workin' on a night train/Drinkin' coffee, takin' cocaine/I'm out here on my night train/Tryin' to get her safely home." It's a hushed, rhythmically propulsive song filled with dramatic tension that is beautifully colored by shimmers of organ and lush guitars. On an album all about what's been bought and sold, both personally and collectively, it shows how in tune Lee is with this land of ours and how good he is at selling his soul in the best possible way.© Matt Collar /TiVo

In many ways, singer/songwriter Amos Lee's sixth full-length album, 2016's ebullient Spirit, isn't that different from his previous efforts. At its core, Spirit is a set of earthy, passionate songs rife with Lee's longstanding knack for melodic, poetic lyricism. That said, Spirit is technically a new start for Lee, as it is both his first completely self-produced album and his first release for John Varvatos Records/Republic Records. Musically, Spirit also feels like a new beginning, with Lee bringing more of his contemporary R&B and '70s soul influences to the fore. However, rather than serving as a complete shift away from Lee's past work, Spirit feels like the apotheosis of his ongoing maturation as an artist who has never shied away from creative growth. Framing his voice in warm acoustic guitars, strings, deep bass, and even the occasional synth, Lee updates his approach, bringing to mind a meld of Milton Nascimento, Bill Withers, and Al Jarreau. It also doesn't hurt that he's written some of his most immediately memorable hooks to date. Cuts like the title track, "New Love," and "One Lonely Night," are literate, deeply felt compositions that never seem overly labored. There are also some effective stylistic experiments here in the Latin-flavored "Lost Child" and the rambling, gospel-infused "Running Out of Time." Primarily, it's his soulful lyricism on tracks like "Til You Come Back Through," the orchestral "Hurt Me," and the hip-hop- and country-infused "Vaporize" that best represent the mix of old and new sounds Lee has combined here so perfectly. © Matt Collar /TiVo

Recorded in Arizona with Calexico's Joey Burns producing, Amos Lee's fourth studio album, 2011's Mission Bell, finds the singer/songwriter in a thoughtful mood and once again wrapping his soulful folk numbers in country, blues, and soft rock. A ruminative, lazy summer day of an album, Mission Bell is not dissimilar to Lee's last effort, 2008's Last Days at the Lodge, but lacks the more contemporary R&B tracks that made Last Days a bit of a departure from Lee's more granola leanings. Here listeners get the introspective leadoff track "El Camino" and the airy Steve Winwood-sounding ballad "Violin." Similarly engaging is the jaunty mid-album anthem "Flower," which is equal parts the Commodores' "Easy" and Hall & Oates' "She's Gone." It's a brilliant, joyously melodic number with the only downside being that it only works to remind you how melodically dire the rest of the album is. Which isn't to say Mission Bell is bad. On the contrary, there is a lot to admire here and maybe that's the main problem. Lee is a talented songwriter with a distinctive pop voice who is becoming recognized as an heir to the American singer/songwriter throne -- a notion given weight by the addition of several well-known guest artists here, including roots rocker Lucinda Williams and country legend Willie Nelson. That said, he often favors rambling, low-key country numbers that get you to quietly consider the bittersweet nature of our existence rather than lose yourself in the song. You come off a track like "Flower" and keep waiting for another one to grab you in the same "instant classic" kind of way. If Mission Bell rings true, it's in the lyrics with Lee's knack for stories and personal revelations keeping you listening, and not always the melodic content.© Matt Collar /TiVo

With a dusky soul voice and a knack for literate, thoughtful lyrics, singer/songwriter Amos Lee is a throwback to a more organic-sounding pop time period. Calling to mind a mix of Bill Withers, Arthur Lee, and James Taylor, Lee croons through his mellow eponymous debut with a singular sense of his time and place that adds weight to his already heartfelt songs. Much like Taylor's Sweet Baby James and Withers' Still Bill, Amos Lee is an album about an artist's life and loves in a world that often seems at odds with his desires. On "Arms of a Woman," Lee sings "I am at ease in the arms of a woman/Although now most of my days are spent alone/A thousand miles from the place I was born/But when she wakes she takes me back home." Similarly, the darkly evocative "Black River" has Lee in a gospel mood, drawing comparisons between a swift-moving river, God, and whiskey, while the brisk country-rock-inflected "Love in the Lies" finds him proclaiming that "The world ain't no harder than it's ever been/Lookin' for love in the lies of a lonely friend." For all intents and purposes with Lee, Blue Note has found the male Norah Jones. In fact, Jones guests here and, interestingly, on "Colors," Lee sings about getting "lost in the circus" -- one wonders if Blue Note hopes that Jones' "house of fun" is close by. Joining in are other members of the Blue Note extended family, including Jones' longtime bassist Lee Alexander, guitarist Kevin Breit, and others. The result is an album not dissimilar to Jones' multiple Grammy-winning Come Away With Me, as Wurlitzer and Hammond organs pipe softly next to acoustic guitars, allowing Lee to glide on top of a wave of tasteful coffeehouse soul. While the comparison is mostly positive, it does pose one rub in that even Come Away With Me, while unfailingly intimate and classy, was somewhat calculated to be beautifully crafted, deeply emotional wallpaper, and Amos Lee holds to that template. Which basically means that, despite Lee's stellar melodic abilities, the arrangements are often too low-key for their own good. That said, Lee has a phenomenal voice matched by a journeyman's sense of songcraft that is just too good to go unnoticed.© Matt Collar /TiVo

In many ways, singer/songwriter Amos Lee's sixth full-length album, 2016's ebullient Spirit, isn't that different from his previous efforts. At its core, Spirit is a set of earthy, passionate songs rife with Lee's longstanding knack for melodic, poetic lyricism. That said, Spirit is technically a new start for Lee, as it is both his first completely self-produced album and his first release for John Varvatos Records/Republic Records. Musically, Spirit also feels like a new beginning, with Lee bringing more of his contemporary R&B and '70s soul influences to the fore. However, rather than serving as a complete shift away from Lee's past work, Spirit feels like the apotheosis of his ongoing maturation as an artist who has never shied away from creative growth. Framing his voice in warm acoustic guitars, strings, deep bass, and even the occasional synth, Lee updates his approach, bringing to mind a meld of Milton Nascimento, Bill Withers, and Al Jarreau. It also doesn't hurt that he's written some of his most immediately memorable hooks to date. Cuts like the title track, "New Love," and "One Lonely Night," are literate, deeply felt compositions that never seem overly labored. There are also some effective stylistic experiments here in the Latin-flavored "Lost Child" and the rambling, gospel-infused "Running Out of Time." Primarily, it's his soulful lyricism on tracks like "Til You Come Back Through," the orchestral "Hurt Me," and the hip-hop- and country-infused "Vaporize" that best represent the mix of old and new sounds Lee has combined here so perfectly. © Matt Collar /TiVo

Amos Lee received some solid critical notice for his first two Blue Note records and made it through to create a third -- an accomplishment in and of itself these days. As they were described, these albums walked some strange line between Neil Young, Bill Withers, and James Taylor. That's some heavy company to keep for a young man who used to be a schoolteacher. Last Days at the Lodge isn't a radical departure. Produced by Don Was, Lee's studio band includes guitar slinger Doyle Bramhall II, no less a keyboardist than Spooner Oldham, bassist Pino Palladino, and drummer James Gadson. All of these cats are super-choppers. The guests include the ubiquitous Greg Leisz on pedal steel and banjo, and a slew of keyboard players including Was, Justin Stanley, Rami Jaffee, and Jamie Muhoberac. Musically, the soul tunes on this set are far more interesting than anything else -- Lee's got a terrific voice to exploit, but he seldom does it and it's a shame. Check the honey-dripping babymaker "Won't Let Me Go," with a sweet string arrangement by Larry Gold and Lee doing his best Ron Isley and Al Green combination. Then there's the more baroque Terry Callier touches on "Baby I Want You," which begins as a subtle folk-blues but becomes a gorgeous guitar-fueled soul number. These cuts are numbers two and three in the sequence; they create a very deep and genuine emotional vibe that stands in stark contrast to the opener. "Listen" is Lee playing a sloppy, minor-key guitar rocker that feels like David Crosby singing a ZZ Top song they wrote for CSNY. Thankfully, this dreadfully dull moment is the only one of its kind here. Swinging acoustic/electric shuffling blues-driven tunes enter the mix on "Truth" before a washed-out singer/songwriter ballad, "What's Been Going On," displaces the setting. The blues reenter on "Street Corner Preacher" to liven things up a bit. The Callier cum Curtis Mayfield-esque soul returns on "Jails and Bombs," thank the gods, but that's the last taste of what Lee does best. The rest is standard singer/songwriter fare that is forgettable for its lack of originality even if it is pleasant. (Joe Henry already passed through these gates on his way to the dark yet living heart of American music, and he did it far better.) Despite its relaxed vibe, the sense of conflict in this set is everywhere. It reveals Lee to be at a crossroads aesthetically. The forces that drive him to the soul side are the same ones that drive him to the rest. The problem is that he only does one of these things exceptionally well: Lee is a great soul singer when he allows himself to be, and he knows how to write an excellent if quirky song in the genre that touches both Memphis and Chicago. The three tracks here that evoke that style set him apart from everyone else on the scene. It's a wonder that Was or his A&R man at Blue Note didn't push him a bit harder in that direction. Who knows? He will have to choose eventually, because one way or another, he can't get over by simply playing mix-and-match forever -- his albums will become generic rather than iconoclastic. Last Days at the Lodge is, after all, an average and bland singer/songwriter album with three great tracks (which is at least two more than most kids on the block).© Thom Jurek /TiVo

Having started out as a soul- and folk-influenced singer/songwriter, the Philadelphia-born Amos Lee has developed over the years into an increasingly rootsy, country-leaning artist. On his fifth studio album, 2013's Mountains of Sorrow, Rivers of Song, Lee delves even further into a lyrical country style on what are some of his most heartfelt songs to date. The album follows up his acclaimed 2011 release, Mission Bell, an album that was also steeped in country influences. In keeping with the rootsy approach, Lee recorded this album in Nashville with producer Jay Joyce, who has helmed similar productions for Emmylou Harris and the Wallflowers. Lee has a knack for picking top-notch backing musicians and Mountains of Sorrow, Rivers of Song is no exception, featuring superb instrumental work from Lee's touring band, including, among others, pianist/organist Jaron Olevsky, guitarist/banjo player Andy Keenan, bassist Zach Djanikian, and drummer Freddy Berman. He is also joined by several big-name collaborators here, including guitarist Jerry Douglas, who adds some earthy dobro to the title track, and guitarist Tony Joe White, who brings his bluesy, atmospheric skills to several tracks. Similarly, contemporary bluegrass superstar Alison Krauss lends her ethereal presence to the poignant "Chill in the Air," and journeyman folk chanteuse Patty Griffin harmonizes with Lee to goose bump-inducing effect on "Mountains of Sorrow." Ultimately, though, whether it’s the roiling, contemporary country twang of "Stranger," or the poignant heartbreak of "Dresser Drawer," it's Lee's talents as an insightful songwriter and soulful vocalist that beg your attention on Mountains of Sorrow, Rivers of Song.© Matt Collar /TiVo

Amos Lee's seventh studio album, 2018's Tony Berg-produced My New Moon, is a ruminative if still uplifting album, characterized by emotive melodies and an earthy soulfulness. The album, which comes roughly two years after the singer/songwriter's '70s soul-influenced Spirit, was purportedly born out of a dark period of self-reflection in which Lee reexamined his motivations for writing music. During the recording process he was also shaken by the tragic shooting at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School in Parkland, Florida, an event that informs the record's leadoff single, "No More Darkness, No More Light." However, rather than focusing solely on the bleakness of this cultural moment, Lee has attempted to find something inspiring for his listeners, crafting songs that work to raise hopes for both the present and the future. Which isn't to say there aren't dark moments here; tracks like the folky "Crooked," in which he sees an off-kilter world reflected in his own crooked smile, and the funky, '80s-era Bob Dylan-influenced "Don't Give a Damn Anymore," are searing, bitter-tasting indictments of his own personal failings. On the latter track, he sings "You ask me, who I think I am/You ask me, as if I give a damn/I've been wrong so many times, I don't give a damn anymore." However, rather than giving in to these more cynical inclinations, he finds the suggestion of a silver lining, as on the sultry, slow-burn soul anthem "All You Got Is a Song," in which he croons "I'm gonna sing away the pain, somewhere over the rainbow/I'm gonna sing away the pain, and pray that all your pain goes." It's a spine-tinglingly romantic song, but one in which the romance grows out of pain and personal struggle, and feels all the more cathartic and real because of it. © Matt Collar /TiVo

Recorded at the iconic Colorado amphitheater in August 2014, Live at Red Rocks showcases singer/songwriter Amos Lee in concert backed by the Colorado Symphony Orchestra. An intimate songwriter with a poignant country-, folk- and soul-inflected sound, Lee has built an impressive career over the 15-plus years since the release of his self-titled 2005 debut. Having started out as a guitar-and-vocals-based artist, the Philadelphia-born Lee has become a chance-taking journeyman and bandleader, able to pull all of his eclectic influences into a warm, rootsy style all his own. Although not Lee's first live effort, Live at Red Rocks is his first proper, fully produced concert album, meant to fit into his main discography next to his studio recordings. In that sense, it works as both a showcase for Lee's talents and a celebration of all he's achieved. Consciously gathering songs from all of his albums, Lee has crafted a seamless live experience that flows from the languid folk of "Windows Rolled Down" to the rambling twang of "Tricksters, Hucksters, and Scamps" to the R&B slow-jam balladry of "Won't Let Me Go." The inclusion of the Colorado Symphony works as much more than window dressing. The gorgeously penned arrangements add extra depth and nuance to Lee's songs, further illuminating heretofore hinted at influences such as the Led Zeppelin-sounding orchestral bombast of "Street Corner Preacher" and the rambling, Van Morrison-esque troubadour soul sound of "Flower." For longtime Lee fans, Live at Red Rocks will certainly play as a vibrant platform to revisit his work. And for those who have never heard Lee before this album, Live at Red Rocks is a superb place to start. © Matt Collar /TiVo

Featuring songs recorded during the Mission Bell sessions in 2010, Amos Lee's 2012 EP As the Crow Flies works as a nice low-key addition to Mission Bell. Much like that album, As the Crow Flies is an earthy, heartfelt, and soulful set of cuts that showcase Lee's unique mix of singer/songwriter folk, country, and R&B. In fact, in many ways the EP is a bit more immediately engaging than its full-length predecessor, with Lee coming up with a number of catchy, melodic, and still deeply personal songs. To these ends, we get the Hall & Oates-influenced "Simple Things" and the rambling '60s-centric "Say Goodbye." Similarly compelling are such tracks as the poignant midtempo ballad "Mama Sail to Me" and the bluesy "There I Go Again." Ultimately, with songs that are as good as anything on Mission Bell, As the Crow Flies is a must-hear for Lee fans.© Matt Collar /TiVo

Amos Lee received some solid critical notice for his first two Blue Note records and made it through to create a third -- an accomplishment in and of itself these days. As they were described, these albums walked some strange line between Neil Young, Bill Withers, and James Taylor. That's some heavy company to keep for a young man who used to be a schoolteacher. Last Days at the Lodge isn't a radical departure. Produced by Don Was, Lee's studio band includes guitar slinger Doyle Bramhall II, no less a keyboardist than Spooner Oldham, bassist Pino Palladino, and drummer James Gadson. All of these cats are super-choppers. The guests include the ubiquitous Greg Leisz on pedal steel and banjo, and a slew of keyboard players including Was, Justin Stanley, Rami Jaffee, and Jamie Muhoberac. Musically, the soul tunes on this set are far more interesting than anything else -- Lee's got a terrific voice to exploit, but he seldom does it and it's a shame. Check the honey-dripping babymaker "Won't Let Me Go," with a sweet string arrangement by Larry Gold and Lee doing his best Ron Isley and Al Green combination. Then there's the more baroque Terry Callier touches on "Baby I Want You," which begins as a subtle folk-blues but becomes a gorgeous guitar-fueled soul number. These cuts are numbers two and three in the sequence; they create a very deep and genuine emotional vibe that stands in stark contrast to the opener. "Listen" is Lee playing a sloppy, minor-key guitar rocker that feels like David Crosby singing a ZZ Top song they wrote for CSNY. Thankfully, this dreadfully dull moment is the only one of its kind here. Swinging acoustic/electric shuffling blues-driven tunes enter the mix on "Truth" before a washed-out singer/songwriter ballad, "What's Been Going On," displaces the setting. The blues reenter on "Street Corner Preacher" to liven things up a bit. The Callier cum Curtis Mayfield-esque soul returns on "Jails and Bombs," thank the gods, but that's the last taste of what Lee does best. The rest is standard singer/songwriter fare that is forgettable for its lack of originality even if it is pleasant. (Joe Henry already passed through these gates on his way to the dark yet living heart of American music, and he did it far better.) Despite its relaxed vibe, the sense of conflict in this set is everywhere. It reveals Lee to be at a crossroads aesthetically. The forces that drive him to the soul side are the same ones that drive him to the rest. The problem is that he only does one of these things exceptionally well: Lee is a great soul singer when he allows himself to be, and he knows how to write an excellent if quirky song in the genre that touches both Memphis and Chicago. The three tracks here that evoke that style set him apart from everyone else on the scene. It's a wonder that Was or his A&R man at Blue Note didn't push him a bit harder in that direction. Who knows? He will have to choose eventually, because one way or another, he can't get over by simply playing mix-and-match forever -- his albums will become generic rather than iconoclastic. Last Days at the Lodge is, after all, an average and bland singer/songwriter album with three great tracks (which is at least two more than most kids on the block).© Thom Jurek /TiVo

Having started out as a soul- and folk-influenced singer/songwriter, the Philadelphia-born Amos Lee has developed over the years into an increasingly rootsy, country-leaning artist. On his fifth studio album, 2013's Mountains of Sorrow, Rivers of Song, Lee delves even further into a lyrical country style on what are some of his most heartfelt songs to date. The album follows up his acclaimed 2011 release, Mission Bell, an album that was also steeped in country influences. In keeping with the rootsy approach, Lee recorded this album in Nashville with producer Jay Joyce, who has helmed similar productions for Emmylou Harris and the Wallflowers. Lee has a knack for picking top-notch backing musicians and Mountains of Sorrow, Rivers of Song is no exception, featuring superb instrumental work from Lee's touring band, including, among others, pianist/organist Jaron Olevsky, guitarist/banjo player Andy Keenan, bassist Zach Djanikian, and drummer Freddy Berman. He is also joined by several big-name collaborators here, including guitarist Jerry Douglas, who adds some earthy dobro to the title track, and guitarist Tony Joe White, who brings his bluesy, atmospheric skills to several tracks. Similarly, contemporary bluegrass superstar Alison Krauss lends her ethereal presence to the poignant "Chill in the Air," and journeyman folk chanteuse Patty Griffin harmonizes with Lee to goose bump-inducing effect on "Mountains of Sorrow." Ultimately, though, whether it’s the roiling, contemporary country twang of "Stranger," or the poignant heartbreak of "Dresser Drawer," it's Lee's talents as an insightful songwriter and soulful vocalist that beg your attention on Mountains of Sorrow, Rivers of Song.© Matt Collar /TiVo