by Philip Moss

From deep within: Every Acre is dug from the dust of the land, and channelled by a voice as rich as the earth 

‘You’re in my blood, you’re in my head… come to me now, my little lamb.’

Who or what the lamb referenced in the opening line of A Lamb, A Dove – the first track on H.C McEntire’s 2018 debut album, Lionheart – means, only the North Carolina songwriter knows. But it could so easily be metaphorical for song. As – on third collection, Every Acre – she farms once more into her very being for words and music that time and time again feel like perfection.

 It is hard to explain what makes music feel timeless. But McEntire clearly has the secret. She’s a songwriter with her eyes wide open – and opening song, New View, is that optimism personified. ‘The wind lets me choose this new view / bend me and break me, split me right in two, mend me and make me, I’ll take more of you in the high hunter’s moon,’ she sings in a voice richer than the dark glass that bounces back off the Eno River at dusk.

And like the moon, her eye forever gazes. Nature, faith, folk traditions, romance, relationships – the very essence of what contributes to our experience in the human condition – all see light shone upon them. Shadows is patient. Turpentine is deep with a wily, experienced knowing, as she hollers ‘time ain’t always kind.’ While Big Love asks questions rather than answers them.

Bob Dylan is quoted as saying that the gift of song is ‘magic’ – and that his muse (where and when it visits) is one was he could neither explain, nor understand. On Every Acre, it would seem unfair to apply this ideology: these songs are dug from deep within, and could only be written by H.C McEntire.

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