
The artistic persona of Rianne Downey is one of notably wholesome, unpretentious proportions. Anything small-scale and homespun is deliberate, as you might expect from an artist who has one of their major creative impetuses as posting covers on Facebook so her granny could hear her perform during lockdown. It’s likely why Downey has ended up down very different routes than traditional singer-songwriterdom often allows. Often, she’s found herself in indie circles, likely as a consequence of music that’s more straightforwardly honest and earnest. She’s also recently served as the live partner of Paul Heaton, spotted through a cover of The Beautiful South’s Rotterdam to fill in for Jacqui Abbott as his co-performer, and more than likely put Downey in front of the older, middle-brow audience her music is suited to.
It’s also worth noting that, among the country artists that the British public has decided it’s okay to listen to, Downey doesn’t map cleanly with any of them. She sounds nothing like Morgan Wallen (thank Christ), and Zach Bryan’s rougher timbres and lack of filter are worlds away. Instead, The Consequence Of Love aims away from any overt stylishness into classically-moulded, polished folk-pop and country-pop, which is clearly the better fit for Downey. Even though producer Ryan Hadlock has, in fact, worked with Zach Bryan in the past (as well as Brandi Carlile and a slew of indie-rock bands, to fully hammer home to contrast), giving Downey something this clean and lightweight is probably for the best.
For one, it helps to flesh out Downey as a personality, and how the steadier, affable sensibilities in her music play such a key role. There’s not an angsty or sour bone in her body, evidenced through a placid selection of acoustic guitars, fiddles, strings and a halo of light around everything bestowed by the mix. High-octane thrill-seekers need not apply to this one. For what it is, though, in its comparative frugality against many a cluttered, sullen glut in contemporary country music, the likability of The Consequence Of Love is what really creates its mark. Downey is such a genial presence, the central sunbeam that trills through the life lessons of Good In Goodbye, or a Celtic folk tribute to her Scottish home on The Song Of Old Glencoe (complete with some charming slips back into her natural accent).
It’s not like this can’t be as twee as anything, though. Maybe it’s to the album’s credit that it isn’t more so; between Downey’s painted-on, girlish grin and the aversion to anything gnarlier than a slightly lower-down guitar rustle, you’d expect a drizzle of saccharine to be far more intrusive. Good on the album for that, then, though it can get a little much. Angel is gunning for ‘60s / early-‘70s country cred with its humble, finger-picked presentation and—relevant to this area of discussion—lyrics where it’d almost feel too generous to call their religious leanings ‘subtext’. Meanwhile, Because is a cutesy, bubbly love song that simply can’t be unaware of how lines such as “The world is not so bad a place / How can it be when I get to see your face?” read like a particularly mushy Valentine’s card set to music.
But even with instances like those, they’re the furthest thing from indefensible slides into hyper-sentimentality that they’d be if they were one-offs. It’s the total opposite, actually—they’re the dominant part of Downey’s musical oeuvre. To get anything downbeat and ‘intense’ (to put it hyperbolically), you need to wait for Heart Of Mine at the very end, but a tease for future sides of Downey that’s hopefully get more play can still work. Plus, it still fits into the homely style of The Consequence Of Love, without being too much of an awkward jerk to round out. That in itself is a good piece of artistic development to note, when it can sometimes be tough for artists like this and Downey herself specifically. A previous single Dancing In The Rain tried affixing a pounding backbeat that was so far outside of what felt comfortable, so to see the current steps forward at a more generous, naturalistic pace makes the light, fresh air of The Consequence Of Love lighter and fresher.
Above all, it’s the niceness of this album that’s its defining trait. We’re approximately half the universe away from anything profoundly creative or inspired, but from the sort of person that Downey presents as, ‘nice’ sounds like it’d be enough. She’s a talented songwriter with a strong ear for folk- and country-pop pull, and the approachable demeanour to cater for a wide, generation-spanning crowd without alienating all that many whatsoever. There’s a very Myles Smith-esque energy in that, with the slightest edge to Downey for the prestige of her influences seeping through. It’s worth appreciating that now, because soon, in certain circles, you probably won’t be able to avoid it.
For fans of: Paul Heaton, CMAT, Myles Smith
‘The Consequence Of Love’ by Rianne Downey is released on 17th October on Run On Records.
Words by Luke Nuttall






