Scott Moran delivers an emotionally riveting album on Sixth of the Six, a poignant journal chronicling the international abduction of his daughter, Charlotte, to the Philippines. Melding driving folk rock with devastatingly vulnerable lyricism, the record captures an empty house, a broken legal system, and an unyielding fatherly devotion. Learn more and support the ongoing search at https://rescuecharlotte.org/
The album’s title track opens the release in rousing form, propelled by twangy, spirited guitar work that progresses into a warming distortion-touched energy. “You were born at night, I kept looking over my shoulder,” Moran’s retrospective vocals let out, adorned by a more pop-rock backing that gradually swells into a heavier folk/rock intertwining. “This ain’t the getaway,” a hooky vocal refrain lets out, venturing into further well-produced prowess. The track compels with its significant emotional weight, anchoring its heartbreak in Moran’s concluding aspiration to “be a good father” while enveloping the listener in a melodic, infectious entrancement.
Coming next, “God Put Teeth on the Moon” captivates with Moran’s dynamic vocal work, especially. Blaring guitar tones and prancing piano lead a memorable sense of momentum, lyrically heartbreaking as Moran sings “I still do the voices when the house gets numb … the cow says moo,” reflecting on time with his daughter before her abduction. Further perspectives of injustice, backed by a Strokes-esque guitar progression, fuel an explosion of vocal power that shifts seamlessly between airier contemplations and raucously gripping, anthemic passion. The album’s stellar opening one-two punch quickly showcases Moran’s fantastic ability as a songwriter.
Another impactful track, “Systems” also captures the stillness of an empty house, following such personal tumult. “There′s a crib in my house that looks like a crime scene without the tape,” he sings, the ensuing descriptions being impactful: “A blanket folded too neatly, silence where there should be noise / I feed ghosts breakfast, they don’t eat much.” Thumping bass and soulful vocal harmonies precede these emotive sequences, escalating into a dual-vocal dreaminess and catchy “I′ve seen systems” hook, contrasting fluttering, bright approachability with solemn yet realistic outlooks on a broken system. The subsequent “Christmas Morning” furthers the scene-setting, its “you’re not here” yearning and hope for Charlotte’s good health arising into an ardent “so I wrote you this song” proclamation, consuming in its heartfelt lyricism and movement from folk-ready minimalism into expansive vibrancy.
That feeling of physical distance is also conveyed on the affecting “Woman in Manila,” moving in its acknowledgement of another person raising and influencing the artist’s daughter, giving off parental advice — “remember you have choices / you’re not defined by someone’s pain” — amidst apologies for not being there. Sixth of the Six is an emotionally resonant album from Scott Moran, capturing one of the hardest things a person can go through, in not being able to raise their child despite loving them dearly and being their legally appointed guardian.
