: Press/Reviews

One of this year's top folk albums; simplicity and real heart and soul. Evokes the same spirit that Dave and Tracy had...love it.

Rebecca and Ken's harmonies are just gorgeous, the instrumentation perfectly complimentary and I love the old timey feel of the whole thing.

So rare that there is a blend of the old and new and sounding so traditional. Would that Grammy went for people that don't have all that hype. My socks were blown off and now I truly will be walking sockless and barefoot.

The first thing that strikes you about Hungrytown is how damn cute they are. Seeing them on stage, you’d swear this whole “folk musician” thing was just an extended second honeymoon. The show is full of sidelong glances, little jokes, and matrimonial barbs. Before one song Rebecca reminded Ken “Now don’t forget the new intro” in the same tone one might use to remind their husband to bring the car in for an oil change or to empty the lint trap before drying the linens.
Musically Hungrytown is like few folk acts out there. Ken and Rebecca kick it way old school – like 1930’s old school. They have an incredible knack for writing songs that sound so authentic they might be referred to as forgeries. They also found something they can do well together, which sounds cheesy as hell, but seriously, isn’t that what we all want? They take the trials and tribulations of their daily lives (like those involved in buying a new house or living with your husband in a very small van), craft them into simple verses, and hurl them back in time. The soul of the songs is modern, but they sound like something that should be coming out of a gramophone.

This pair makes some amazing music. Hall’s voice lilts from hallowed to twangy and back again. Anderson plays harmonica while plucking an electric bass that sounds more like a stand-up, and frequently offers backup harmonies that make the songs even more verdant. They’re impressively well-read in folk literature, to the point that Hall’s murder ballads and sing-alongs sound like they could have been handed down by a generation or three.

This accomplished duo's style is their own, with beautiful harmonies and wonderful arrangements expertly played. Rebecca's outstanding vocals are strongly supported by Ken's fine musicianship.

Rebecca Hall, who left Boston in 1990 to try her luck in Greenwich Village, felt inspired after listening to Harry Smith's "Anthology Of American Folk Music", to write songs herself. Her first album was originally a home-made demo, that she sold at gigs. She won't have dreamt back then, that she soon would count people like Roger McGuinn and Laura Cantrell among her fans! To attract the attention of a spoiled connoisseur like McGuinn with his Folk Den, an artist must have something substantial to offer and Rebecca has that something...
First off a crystal clear voice with a timbre reminiscent of Joan Baez at the time of the Bob Dylan-covers, a reference to English folk (Sandy Denny's atmosphere) is also in its place. Rebecca's songs are timeless, they could have been composed in this new century or at the beginning of the last century: two traditionals ("Rosemary Lane" with little bells and "The False Bride") mingle unperceived. The mostly melancholy themes are loneliness and lost love, as a result main characters take off into the wide world. "Going North" -with sounds of the ocean- intrigues me, it makes me think of Sonya Hunter's song with the same title, mixed with a touch of "You Can Sleep While I Drive".

The fine arrangements impress and won't go unnoticed! Every track is dressed up differently, the mandola stands out already in the opener, the cello brings warmth, the bass lays down the nice little accents and is played by Rebecca's husband Ken Anderson, we also hear oboe, violin, piano, percussion and of course guitars! So, are those lovers of folkmusic sitting observantly straight up in the meantime?

FIVE STARS ***** Rebecca Hall presents one of the most enjoyable vocal performances that we have ever heard here at Roots Music Report. Her style is smooth and warm and she presents the songs she wrote with such grace and style that her emotions seem to just pour from each track. Sunday Afternoon is no run of the mill release, this album is very compelling.

Rebecca Hall is a true rarity: a new folk classicist.

Rebecca Hall claims inspirations ranging from Harry Smith's Anthology of American Folk Music to alt-country and Nick Drake. Her second album spotlights her superb songwriting craft and does honor to her varied influences.

New York neo-folk ballad singer and writer Rebecca Hall has been winning compliments from fellow musicians Laura Cantrell and even Roger McGuinn for her updated take on mid-to-late 1960s pop/folk sounds. Sunday Afternoon, her second album, recalls in style the acoustic guitar and string arrangements heard first on Judy Collins' In My Life, then on lusher turns from Leonard Cohen, and on Brit folk-rock productions from Joe Boyd.

Rebecca's songs are straightforward without being simplistic. They have depth and maturity without pretentiousness. They have an innocent quality that is without any of the usual moralistic posing. In her songwriting and in her performance of those songs, Rebecca maintains a perfect balance of art and artlessness.

Delicately brooding and filled with muted passion, Sunday Afternoon showcases an accomplished singer-songwriter and an impeccable arranger/producer doing what comes naturally. The result is a durable testament to the power of a good song.

There's always a tinge of uncertainty when a great traditional performer begins to develop on her own work. In the case of Rebecca Hall's Sunday Afternoon, that uncertainty vanishes in the bright perceptions of the opening "Come Around," to be replaced with a new doubt. It's hard to believe these are modern songs; it seems more plausible that they are traditional classics that have somehow never been heard before. . . . Few artists ever create songs that might reasonably survive beyond their own memory. Not a track on Sunday Afternoon couldn't survive on its own."

It is the story-telling that is the main attraction, as well as the delicate accompaniments and Rebecca's sweet, contemplative, lonesome tones. Sunday Afternoon would make a welcome addition to any record collection, but especially one with the likes of Nick Drake, Alex Chilton or early Byrds records in it; a special artist who deserves a lot more attention.

With but two exceptions, all of Sunday Afternoon is penned by Hall herself, though they all sound as though they’ve been fermenting in a lost Woody Guthrie notebook, or one mislaid by Davey Graham. . . . Hall understands folk, while her singular voice is surely on loan from an Archangel.

Sweet-voiced Rebecca Hall will drive you to swoon.

How refreshing it is to find an artist who still believes in the power and beauty of a well-written song, and who puts total focus into making that song as effective as possible. Rebecca Hall is that kind of an artist.

. . . I settled back to listen. Within twenty minutes, I had visited a Greenwich Village folk club in 1964, a Virginian mountain shack porch and a Tennessee speakeasy, transported by the purity and simplicity of Rebecca Hall's glorious and haunting traditional American sound.