Southern Wind

Chris Davies has multiple talents- songwriter, vocalist and producer, and she plays mandolin and guitar. She grew up in Itasca, Texas in a big family that always played lots of music together. Chris has played with the E-Flat Porch Band for two years, and lives in McKinney with her husband and two children. Her recently released CD, Southern Wind, features original songs by Chris and by her brother, Sam Baker.  Contributing musicians include Duane Brown & Rudy Littrell of the E-Flat Porch Band, and Denny Allen from Reel Grass Studio. 
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Review of Southern Wind CD, by Tom Geddie, Buddy Magazine,
March 2001 (reprinted by permission)

As a listener, you always know that certain musicians will please you.  You can count on them, and you begin to rely on them.  Their CDs dominate your player, and life is good, even if it slowly sinks into a rut.  If there is a Master Plan, that's probably why CDs like Chris Davies' Southern Wind come along.

It's not a classic collection, or even one that's likely to get a whole lot of airplay
anywhere (It should.)  But Southern Wind is a fresh breeze filled with heartfelt songs about journeys, a nice new-to-most-of-us voice, and simple, effective musical accompaniment. It's the kind of "discovery" album that sparks imagination and emotion.

For reference, not for comparison, Davies has just a touch of Nanci Griffith in her voice and writing.  She also sounds a little like Toni Price and Mary Catherine Reynolds and for some reason, conjures thoughts of Stacey Earle.  Maybe because of the genuine, real-person country-folk sound she creates.

The bluegrass-flavored back-up musicians primarily are Rudy Littrell (harmonica, acoustic bass, percussion) and Duane Brown (guitars) of the E-Flat Porch Band, and Denny Allen on bass.  Davies adds rhythm guitar, mandolin.

On her own upbeat "Two Steps Together," Davies urges a lover to abandon the merry-go-round for the river ride.

On Sam Baker's "Boston," she makes you feel a lonely moment when "the snow is deep and the road is long when you're so, so far from home."

The best song on the album may be Davies' haunting "Harder Along the Way," where she claims that "The things I wanted to be got in my way," and that "by the time night meets the morning I'll be gone."

The best lyric may be on Baker's "Mexican Pony:"  "love was a porcelain angel, it was the moment that we kissed, it was incense and remembered grace, it was the sound of the serpent's hiss."

On "Louisiana Spell," Davies sings, "wide river, muddy water cast its spell on you." Southern Wind casts its own sincere and hopeful spell, tinged with just the right touch of melancholy in Davies' voice and mandolin, and in the band's straightforward accompaniment.

In an instant world, this album's simplicity and depth make it sound like a handwritten letter from an old friend.