Album Review :
Benjamin Daniel - The Rain Falls Sideways

Typically, when I get an album in advance, I dive right in. I play it on repeat. I soak in it for hours, digesting every word. Benjamin Daniel’s (Ben Kunz) latest album somehow alluded me. Maybe it was because it was in a Google Drive file or maybe it was because I was closer to the album this time around by helping with a music video. That’s not to say I never played through it or hadn’t already found some of my favorites, but admittedly listening through things post-release feels less spoiled than usual. I am reviewing an album you might have heard already – an album you might have listened to more than me, to be honest. That feels strange. At the same time, it takes some of the pressure off.

The Rain Falls Sideways is an unexpected record, even per the artist himself. Early fans wonder when, if ever, we’ll get another Shaping Season. But if Shelterheart was an album of forward longing and Home Enough For Now was in-the-moment grieving, this newest album is nostalgic reflection. It’s where the past finally collides into the present and things once foggy are dressed in a layer of clarity. On this note, the album explores Kunz’s move from Georgia to California, the death of his mother and its aftermath (albeit to a small extent), growing up, recovering childlike joy, and simple joys like eating breakfast with a friend and dancing in the rain.

The tone of the album is certainly closer to Shelterheart, albeit maybe even more joyful and innocent in ways. There are plenty of moments of backwards reflection – the ephemeral nature of home, the longing for childlike wonder, the perplexing flavor of predictable discomforts. And, per most of Kunz’s previous albums, the record tops 50 minutes with many songs over four minutes. There’s a lot going on, but much of it is lush and layered.

“Westward” kicks things off, and it’s one of those incredible openers that sets the bar incredibly high for what follows. I immediately think of “Green Again” off Shelterheart in terms of a comparison. Much of the track ponder Kunz’s move to California and wondering what might happen in his time away. I’ve traveled back to places I’ve lived only a couple years ago and know firsthand how quickly things can change, so this is the kind of sentiment that feels close to me. What if where I’m going doesn’t feel like home but I lose the only familiarity I’ve ever known?

Kunz’s knack for using weirdly-specific lyrics is front and center on “Take Hold,” a track which begins with the mundane scene of getting breakfast with a brother in Christ. It almost seems like a running theme that something along these lines would surface, especially given previous mentions of Waffle House. Even so, this is one of his biggest strengths as a songwriter – the rare ability to take harness the beauty within the ordinary. This is not some esoteric scene; any listener can find go get breakfast with a friend and enjoy the same benefit told here.

The title track is one of the most interesting tracks in terms of vocal cadence. It’s a bit of a change up, but it’s certainly grown on me. And lyrically, it’s another highlight. In short, it’s a track about God’s providence through pain and how trials break our pride and self-reliance. All in all, it’s a beautiful track about moving forward when the past seems ruined.

“Lights Out” is probably the most typical “rock” track on the record, and it’s definitely one of the most fun songs. Lyrically, the song uses the anecdote of getting hit by a baseball for how trials in life often hit us unexpectedly – and how sometimes you get back up, brush the dirt off, and get back in the game. I haven’t done the exact math, but I believe the refrain at the end is the most consecutive repetition on any of Kunz’s songs to date, and it does go on for a little bit too long in my opinion. Chase Tremaine lends some great guitar work on the track as well, and I’d love to hear more songs like this in the future.

“Fear Hymn” serves a double-entendre: a hymn about fear and a call to fear God. The track was initially released a few years ago, but it finds a nice place on this album as well. Kunz contemplates how the worst things in this life are fleeting and how one day the redeemed Church will reflect on how small all the insurmountable obstacles truly were. The chorus of backing vocals is hauntingly beautiful and adds powerfully to the hope of the lyrics.

“You Slow Down” takes a similar approach to “Take Hold” and works as a late-album counterpart. The premise is about driving around outside the city limits and processing the changes in life. It’s got an interesting alt-rock flavor and definitely stands out among some of the softer tracks.

“The End That Never Came” brings things full circle, an ode to the past while recognizing beauty in the present. Delicate piano gives way to a steady guitar pulse. Strings sing underneath as guitar lines get fuzzier. There’s a lyrical nod back to the title track, and thing end on a beautiful picture of hope in the moment.

As a whole, this is an interesting album – it wouldn’t be far to say it has more rock elements than its predecessors, though they certainly maintain a certain shape, with electric guitar often feeling more ornamental to a somewhat simpler production. Don’t get me wrong, it sounds good and professional, but the album is true-to-life in the sense that there aren’t a lot of pieces that only exist in the digital space. The collaborative element is still there, but one thing that made Home Enough for Now so special was all of the guest vocalists. Kunz is definitely an adept songwriter, but it seems like he’s at his best when supported by his friends – after all, they do serve as a key lyrical motif. Even so, his latest effort definitely carries plenty of weight itself. It’s album about change, community, loss, finding joy again, and moving forward imperfectly. While the concept at times isn’t as tight as its compatriots, it works as a bit more of a straightforward effort. And the lyrics hit as hard as ever, especially on tracks like “Fear Hymn” and the title track. There’s a lot to take in, but it really has the biggest impact for folks who are in their late 20s or older and have experienced plenty of life shifts. It’s not too late let your inner child run loose. You’re not too old to experience the joy of the Lord. There is still goodness in the land of the living.