
Atlanta Millionaires Club
On Atlanta Millionaires Club, the omnipresence of pedal steel eschews bluegrass trappings, flexible under Faye Websterâs genre-bending direction. Webster didnât set out to make her new album sound like any artist in particular â in fact, she says the recording process was the opposite, trying to avoid sounding like any contemporaries â but she cites Aaliyah as her main musical inspiration for how she uses sound.
Pulling from a familial lineage of folk storytelling and time spent in Atlantaâs hip-hop scene, Websterâs work is a study of duality, weaving through her own introversion and heartbreak; itâs an idiosyncratic sadness punctuated by fleeting observations and an unexpected, sly sense of humour.
Across Atlanta Millionaires Club, Websterâs feather-light vocals unfurl like a sigh, her voice and slinking hues of sleepy R&B acting as sonic through-lines on an album stitched together by intimate songwriting about lonesomeness despite Websterâs connection to a larger community. Opener âRoom Temperatureâ recounts Websterâs day-to-day life, a study of introversion, of trying to be at peace with being alone. A rattling bass line and the fleeting twang of pedal steel simmer beneath her wispy vocals, a wondering refrain: âI should get out more.â
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Description
On Atlanta Millionaires Club, the omnipresence of pedal steel eschews bluegrass trappings, flexible under Faye Websterâs genre-bending direction. Webster didnât set out to make her new album sound like any artist in particular â in fact, she says the recording process was the opposite, trying to avoid sounding like any contemporaries â but she cites Aaliyah as her main musical inspiration for how she uses sound.
Pulling from a familial lineage of folk storytelling and time spent in Atlantaâs hip-hop scene, Websterâs work is a study of duality, weaving through her own introversion and heartbreak; itâs an idiosyncratic sadness punctuated by fleeting observations and an unexpected, sly sense of humour.
Across Atlanta Millionaires Club, Websterâs feather-light vocals unfurl like a sigh, her voice and slinking hues of sleepy R&B acting as sonic through-lines on an album stitched together by intimate songwriting about lonesomeness despite Websterâs connection to a larger community. Opener âRoom Temperatureâ recounts Websterâs day-to-day life, a study of introversion, of trying to be at peace with being alone. A rattling bass line and the fleeting twang of pedal steel simmer beneath her wispy vocals, a wondering refrain: âI should get out more.â

















