Paraphrasing a statement once made by President Joe Biden, for seven-time Grammy winner Brent Maher all music is local, all music is personal. Lionizing his career as a songwriter and music producer, he was noted for his signature relationship with musical acts like the Judds. This eye for talent, as well having it himself in spades is ever present with the release of Maher’s passion project, the christened musical novel Night of the Orphan Train.
As the title suggests, the musicalized storyline follows fictional characters inspired by the real-life housing of numerous orphans and homeless children across the country at around the turn of the century. It was such a devastating time, and the haunting reprose throughout the entirety of the album is this undeniable, passing melancholia. Despite some of the tracks having optimistic and hopeful themes, this sense of loss haunts every sound design, every musical composition, and the longing, yearning vocals at play. “We just write,” Maher said, regarding his process with American Songwriter magazine. “…Unlike me, (my partner) Johnny never stops thinking about writing songs.
I don’t have that same thought process. I have to sort of wrap up the last record and get some space, sometimes take some time off to write by myself. If we think my being one of the writers on the next project (I produce) will be beneficial to its success, then I can shift gears pretty quick. But I’ve never been a writer that sets appointments. Once I’m involved in a project that requires my writing, then I block out all kinds of time to write. But I’ve never been one to have that standing ‘thing’ going to get together just to write. Maybe I need to do it but I never have.”
It’s that singular focus that makes Night of the Orphan Train lack the detriments haunting many contemporary albums today. It doesn’t feel rushed, the themes feel coherent, and there’s no sense of excess producer edits. Likely this is in part due to Maher approaching albums he produces from a writer’s perspective, having an explicit interest in maintaining artistic integrity as much for having an eye for the bottom line. “When I was asked to produce Dottie (West) I asked Randy (Goodrum) to co-produce with me, and to write some of the songs with me since the label wanted to go in a bit of a different direction with her,” he said. “He said he wasn’t a record producer, and I told him that, since he made me get back into songwriting, he was going to help me produce. ‘Lesson in Leavin’ was the second or third song we wrote for Dottie. And ever since that, a part of my producing – not of every artist, but some of them – has involved my writing as well.”
It’s through making the process on both a corporate and creative level so intensely personal Maher has remained a pioneer. There’s this sense of both honed professionalist instinct, juxtaposed with this unusual flexibility allowing Maher to tailor things arbitrarily to the manner best suited to the artist he pairs himself with. When said artist is himself, the listener’s treat is everything feeling so joyously, creatively free. What Night of the Orphan Train doesn’t have in terms of over-sophistication it more than makes up for in sheer, emotive craft. You really do feel like you’re in the shoes of one of those children on the trains. Heading towards a future still uncertain, still undetermined.
Mindy McCall
“Night of the Orphan Train” by Musical Mastermind Brent Maher
Paraphrasing a statement once made by President Joe Biden, for seven-time Grammy winner Brent Maher all music is local, all music is personal. Lionizing his career as a songwriter and music producer, he was noted for his signature relationship with musical acts like the Judds. This eye for talent, as well having it himself in spades is ever present with the release of Maher’s passion project, the christened musical novel Night of the Orphan Train.
As the title suggests, the musicalized storyline follows fictional characters inspired by the real-life housing of numerous orphans and homeless children across the country at around the turn of the century. It was such a devastating time, and the haunting reprose throughout the entirety of the album is this undeniable, passing melancholia. Despite some of the tracks having optimistic and hopeful themes, this sense of loss haunts every sound design, every musical composition, and the longing, yearning vocals at play. “We just write,” Maher said, regarding his process with American Songwriter magazine. “…Unlike me, (my partner) Johnny never stops thinking about writing songs.
I don’t have that same thought process. I have to sort of wrap up the last record and get some space, sometimes take some time off to write by myself. If we think my being one of the writers on the next project (I produce) will be beneficial to its success, then I can shift gears pretty quick. But I’ve never been a writer that sets appointments. Once I’m involved in a project that requires my writing, then I block out all kinds of time to write. But I’ve never been one to have that standing ‘thing’ going to get together just to write. Maybe I need to do it but I never have.”
It’s that singular focus that makes Night of the Orphan Train lack the detriments haunting many contemporary albums today. It doesn’t feel rushed, the themes feel coherent, and there’s no sense of excess producer edits. Likely this is in part due to Maher approaching albums he produces from a writer’s perspective, having an explicit interest in maintaining artistic integrity as much for having an eye for the bottom line. “When I was asked to produce Dottie (West) I asked Randy (Goodrum) to co-produce with me, and to write some of the songs with me since the label wanted to go in a bit of a different direction with her,” he said. “He said he wasn’t a record producer, and I told him that, since he made me get back into songwriting, he was going to help me produce. ‘Lesson in Leavin’ was the second or third song we wrote for Dottie. And ever since that, a part of my producing – not of every artist, but some of them – has involved my writing as well.”
It’s through making the process on both a corporate and creative level so intensely personal Maher has remained a pioneer. There’s this sense of both honed professionalist instinct, juxtaposed with this unusual flexibility allowing Maher to tailor things arbitrarily to the manner best suited to the artist he pairs himself with. When said artist is himself, the listener’s treat is everything feeling so joyously, creatively free. What Night of the Orphan Train doesn’t have in terms of over-sophistication it more than makes up for in sheer, emotive craft. You really do feel like you’re in the shoes of one of those children on the trains. Heading towards a future still uncertain, still undetermined.
Mindy McCall
