In the two years which have passed since Somebody New came out, Jill King moved to California and set up her own label, Found Her Records.  Both decisions are reflected on her latest album, Rain on Fire.  The album shows a search for self, both as a person and as a musician.  However, it is the California part that creeps in most prevalently.  The entire project is infused with a solid dose of California rock, from the 70’s sounds of The Eagles to the more layered, complex production of early Sheryl Crow.  There is also a relaxed and sundrenched feel about the album that speaks to her surroundings.  She fills this with references to childhood days spent playing in the woods and images drawn from tent revivals.  All in all, Rain on Fire is an album tailor made for lazy summer days lounging on back porches drinking Iced Tea.

The album opens with the gentle, upbeat “Beautiful World,” a delicate song of surrender layered over a bubbling brook of a melody.   King gets a chance to show off her sultry side, fairly smoldering on “Undertow.   “I wonder if you have a clue, why I drink my coffee here on my front porch everyday just to get a look at you, “ she asks shyly on the steamy title track, before confessing “I undress you with my eyes.”  The give and take of long distance and grown up relationships are a common theme on this album, which finds King alternately assuring a lover she will always support them in “I’ll Keep Loving You” and wondering why he puts up with everything she puts him through on “Taking Me Back.”  “First love’s a funny thing, like winning the lottery with no head to invest, just spending it fast,” she muses on “Didn’t You Know.”  By far her biggest risk on the album is “Mark on Me,” a tribute to the influence of Robert Johnson, featuring a spoken word intro by Johnson’s grandson and a rap interlude (performed by V Mayz).  What could come off as a painful middle-aged white girl attempt at garnering street cred actually comes across as authentic and touching.  King’s most soaring moment comes in the powerhouse gospel  ballad a song about death, revival, and life that finds the singer coming down from the ecstasy of her childhood faith with “most times its hard to feel it, cause most of us are scarred.” 

                Jill King does move away from her neo-traditional country sound on this album, which is more a flaw of the album as a whole than any one of the songs.  She has a tendency to fall into that mid-tempo California-Rock-meets-Lilith-Fair  gap so many female singer/songwriters tend to gravitate towards.  For the most part this approach works for the individual songs, as she still adds some layers of production or melodic riffs that keep them from all sounding the same.  For the purists who miss her in all her former twangy glory, there are places she could have plugged in the fiddle and banjo.  And, it must be noted, bands like The Duhks have found ways to incorporate traditional instruments with experimental music, which means that King likely could have as well.  And, in all honesty, All I Want is a nearly great song that fairly begs to be underscored with a solid steel guitar riff.  In the main, each song on the album is pretty and well constructed.  The album as a whole, however, feels a little bogged down with each song approximately  the same tempo and containing the same lush, wall of sound level of production.