Little Big Town
have long been compared to
Fleetwood Mac
, usually due to their lush harmonies and taste for sun-kissed melodic pop. If that analogy holds water -- and it does -- then
Pain Killer
is
's
Tusk
, the record where the group bends, twists, and reshapes expectations of what the band can do. Coming after the sweet, shiny
Tornado
, the restless over-saturation in
Killer
is something of a shock. As pure description, the elements sound strictly mainstream: there are gnarled, distorted guitars, flirtations with electronics, thick walloping rhythms, everything that would seemingly amount to a full-fledged arena-country crossover. Instead of following a predictable pattern, the quartet embarks on a series of detours, seizing each individual track as an opportunity to veer a little further off course. While there's none of the frenzied madness that pulsates underneath
,
do slide into a bit of minor-key madness on "Faster Gun" and have to hold their tongue on "Quit Breaking Up with Me"; otherwise they'd spit out profanity. That mischievousness is intertwined with aural adventure on
: there's a sense that the group members are goading each other on, daring their bandmates to dabble in a bit of reggae ("Pain Killer"), to add a whistle to a chorus ("Day Drinking"), to write a swaying slow dance about a "Girl Crush," or to turn a bit of back-porch picking into a funky stomp ("Stay All Night"). Even though this record settles into a finale of three successive folk-rock tunes -- all three softly gorgeous -- it's the previous series of left-hand tours that gives
its kick: this is the rarest thing in contemporary country, a record with an expansive world-view delivered with a kinetic kick and infallible melodies, a record that gives no indication of where it's going upon first listen but remains compelling upon further spins, after all the dazzle dissipates and
's craft shines through. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine