Feel Like Going Home is a contemporary hybrid of gospel and blues sweetened with soft country accoutrements– elemental rock n’ roll for those that recall the alchemy and a rejuvenating second act for the back-in-the-saddle Miko Marks, who across eleven starry, swaying tracks holds her band The Resurrectors to the promise of their name.
Opening with thick chords and pounding piano, the title track sets the pace for the majority of the revival enabling a chorus to hold the notion up to the light while guitarist Steve Wyreman channels Clarence White and Marks rallies in and out of verse with conviction.
“One More Night” flirts with a history lesson, name-checking Howlin’ Wolf, Big Mama Thornton, and Muscle Shoals, holding steady somewhere between the roadhouse and the steeple before gloriously devolving into the swampy, serpentine funk of “River”, a midnight cut hot with dobro and Musselwhite-ish harp courtesy of Justin Phipps.
A true gem, “This Time” is lean, mostly acoustic bronze and pedal steel accentuating Miko’s vocal acrobatics. Marks wields the precision of Aretha Franklin and the streetwise of Bonnie Bramlett, dosing the mix with a Ronnettes earnestness that makes (for this commentator) the most compelling dynamic on the album.
“Peace Of Mind” suffers at over six minutes, delivering exposition that aims at commentary but doesn’t quite stick the landing. “Deliver Me” and “Lay Your Burdens Down” offer uplift but edge toward cliche– they’re not bad, but I found myself wondering numerous what ifs– whereas the Lee Bob Watson (Lee Bob + The Truth) penned “Jubilee” offers a wry, much more terrestrial brand of hope. As the bearer, Marks makes the most of it all, reaching and dipping like a prizefighter or Joe Cocker to keep the songs between the ropes through love and will.
“Trouble” picks up the pace, evoking Sister Rosetta Tharpe, CCR, and John Lewis, striking forward with fists full of guitars and wails begging for, “that good, good trouble,” while on “Good Life”, the Flint, Michigan raised, Mississippi bathed Marks pays tribute to her mother with an emotional blend of twang and Stax attitude.
The desperate gravel of “The Other Side” dallies with experimentation but seductively snakes along low and steady on coils of high-strung guitars, organ, and tone, forsaking the album’s previously proffered comfort for a dark courage that conjures apocalyptic finality and stout resolve wrapped in barbed wire. It’s a standout track both for its production as well as Marks’s performance, a weighted soul scream that deserves maximum volume.