Music Review: Shannon Clark & the Sugar’s Marks on the Wall
This family trio from Ohio explore loss, grief, and healing in their newly released album Marks on the Wall, saturated with a truly Americana blend of country, blues, and indie-rock.
Shannon Clark & the Sugar Marks on the Wall album artwork, 2021.
Hailing from Greenville, Ohio, lead singer and guitarist Shannon Clark, his wife and drummer Brittany Clark, and their 16-year-old daughter, vocalist, and instrumentalist Navie Clark make up this endearing Americana family trio. On their latest album, Marks on the Wall, Shannon and Brittany share songwriting credits for the first time as they explore loss, grief, and healing from the relatively recent death of their youngest daughter. Recorded in their Greenville garage and produced by Grammy award-winning producer Mark Howard, these themes are rooted in the wide-ranging Americana sounds of alt-country, blues, and indie-rock.
Emotions run far, wide, and deep on this album, and their first single, “Let It Ride,” wrestles with some pretty heady stuff, including abandonment and anger stemming from multiple wounds—emotions Shannon knows he needs to release in order to move on. First, he recalls searching for his father when he was 24 and discovering a half-sister—neither of whom he’s stayed in contact with: “I’ve got a sister in Modesto that I don’t ever see / I guess it’s alright ‘cuz she only half looks like me,” then “My real dad never knew me until I turned 24 / He wasn’t a father ‘cuz he wasn’t knockin’ at my door / Gonna let it ride.” Soon, the loss of his youngest daughter surfaces; he wishes he could’ve taken her place “a million times,” he sings, and moments later recounts how deeply affected he was by his single mother leaving him alone, “too busy selling herself to the next man’s highest bid.”
The refrain “Doesn’t matter when the rain comes just as long as you get dry / Because it ain’t a question of when but a question of why” pushes against that sentiment of letting go, as if he were playing whack-a-mole with his resurfacing anger, where the mallet is his determination to let go in order to not let the anger and disappointment rule him. The bluesy, outlaw-country-inspired music reinforces this duality of emotions, the push-pull of good vs. evil, with the “evil” being the shit hand life can deal you and “good” the strong resilience needed to not let it overtake you.
Brittany (l), Shannon (m) & Navie (r) Clark. Photo credit: unknown.
One of my favorite tracks, “Grumpy Sun” (see YouTube clip below), really leans into this same bluesy, country-outlaw sound even more. An intensely vivid atmosphere of unexpected sounds arise in mere seconds—percussion like a metal hammer pounding on an anvil or as if attempting to break a literal chain; a low, buzzing bass line that growls like a Mad Max truck in the looming distance; and Shannon’s vocals, filtered to mirror a crackly old-time radio show, setting the stage for some serious storytime. This story is about the Sun as a rambling man, observing the navel-gazing people below as he passes through town after town. Understandably, the Sun is damned “perturbed” by what he sees as countless folk incurably ignorant of the wider world and what it means to be part of it, all on full display in this verse:
As the Sun had to shine its glow
On a little town down in Idaho
People gathered up all in their masses
To read from screens their nightly passage
Tip their hats to their fake genius
And celebrate their abundant weakness
‘Cuz the sun just didn’t believe
In rewarding mediocrity.
For the refrain, Navie’s rich and throaty vocals echo off Shannon’s skyward cries: “Sun, gonna keep on shinin’ / But we wouldn’t know it from lightnin’ or a wishing well / That sun it might forget us / Take the number 9 Grey Bus and never look back.” Whatever their original intention behind this song, it speaks to me of the apathy and division in our country right now on so many levels (environment, social injustices—the list is disturbingly endless.) And just like the Sun, I feel like I’m observing the messes we keep making without taking responsibility. This is a hard one not to sing and/or stomp your foot along with; go ahead—try. I’ve had it in my head for days. It’s that irresistibly infectious.
Although not every song is laden with grit, there’s still a dalliance with the underbelly of society, particularly on the excellent “Red River,” which starts us off with a jaunty bluegrass fiddle that stops abruptly to make way for a thumping bass drum that sets the stage for a sharp, dark turn straight into a juicy murder ballad (right up Carol’s alley!). Yet that fiddle doesn’t leave us, instead throwing the listener a line to keep our heads above that murky river rife with grey areas and an oily streak of fiery retribution (all puns totally intended).
Shannon (l), Navie (m) & Brittany (r) Clark. Photo credit: unknown.
Other tracks are quieter meditations on heartbreak, such as the soulful “Thousand Times,” which is strongly reminiscent of Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova’s 2006 collaborative album Swell Season, with soft harmonies, an organ, and some excellent subtle percussion that frame both acoustic and vibrant electric guitars, all creating a similar sensation of drowning in a rainstorm. Songs such as “Wait Till Spring” and “Blank” work their way through relationship struggles, and “The Burden” and “Marks on the Wall” both focus on the daughter they lost, the life she will never experience, the world she would never explore, and the toll her illness took on the whole family.
And yet, despite the emotional heaviness throughout, there’s a strong sense of longing and intent to savor every moment with loved ones while they can. “Little Darlin’” is a sweet song about meeting a lover for the first time that has a similar lilt and sway as the 1950s country-pop sound of Carol’s beloved Cactus Blossoms, and “Last Morning” is a gentle promise to a partner that “I will be your love from now until I don’t wake up.”
Shannon Clark & the Sugar have woven a rich tapestry of feelings and experiences into a sonic landscape of wide-open spaces inside and out that’s likely to strike an emotional chord with a large audience, particularly in light of the past year we’ve all endured.
While live shows for Shannon Clark & the Sugar are suspended indefinitely amid the pandemic, visit their website periodically for updates! Until then:
Jaclyn Nott. Photo credit: Cory Weber.
The graphic designer, webmaster, writer, and editor for the Adventures in Americana site, Jaclyn Nott enjoys a wiiiide range of music—and Americana is just one of many favorites. Her main hustle is grant writing, content writing/editing, and web design, but her true passion is screen- and creative writing.
