Review
“The Way It Is” sweeps you into a world washed with endless misty blues and copper autumn, each song trailing the taste of honey and rain-soaked earth. The title track stands as the spirit of the album—restless, yearning, filled with questions that ripple out like rings on water—bronzed by Hornsby’s unmistakable touch at the piano. “Mandolin Rain” carries the aroma of fresh-cut grass and a nostalgic sweetness that lingers on the tongue, harmonica weaving through memory-laden corridors. The arrangements feel crisply lit by morning sun, every instrument breathing in the wide space between pop and folk tradition.
Strings and keys dance with the silvery tinge of Americana, pigments bleeding into the air, especially as “Every Little Kiss” glimmers with hints of Charles Ives in its opening phrases. Here, Hornsby’s voice is both confessional and airy, his melodies painted with elegance instead of artifice. The harmonies flutter in sorrel and cinnamon—warmed by the occasional touch of mandolin—inviting even the most distracted soul to pause and listen. “The Way It Is” doesn’t just haunt the radio waves of its era—it glides, timeless, on a palette of gold and gentian blue. - Calista
