Reviews for Devon Sproule

Like all genres, country music has undergone its latterday progressions, but some manifestations have been vastly more out of the envelope than others. Don't Hurry for Heaven is one of them, and Devon Sproule could hardly have chosen a better bandmate than B.J. Cole to assist. Cole has been on many stellar releases and well esteemed for his elegance.

Devon Sproule continues her bright upward arch as a singer and songwriter with Don't Hurry for Heaven!, another collection of tunes driven by her bright, seemingly carefree vocals and her top-notch band.

Devon Sproule has one of those rock and roll childhood stories that make for great VH1 documentaries. The daughter of hippie parents, Devon was born on a commune in Kingston, Ontario and shuffled between home schooling, public and private education. That’s a good opening scene.

On her opening track, "Ain't That the Way," Virginia-based Devon Sproule laments: "I asked God for a good job/He put me on a plane/All the people that I love, the people that I'm from, are far away" - an obvious nod to the extended period of time she has spent overseas as of late.

Really cool, loose, friendly pop. The songs on Don't Hurry For Heaven initially reminded us of Lucinda Williams. or even very early Carly Simon..but after spinning the album a few times the similarities seemed less and less obvious. Sure the vocals are somewhat similar to Williams and Simon...but in terms of songs and overall sound, this is substantially different.

Some artists wear quirky like a badge, almost daring listeners to keep up. Devon Sproule takes a quieter approach. There's a singular quality about her songs, deeply personal yet somehow radiating larger truths, but with "Don't Hurry For Heaven", Sproule simply puts 'em out there and leaves decisions up to the listener.

Not many musicians can make the claim they grew up in a commune in Kingston, Ontario, but such was case for Devon Sproule. Now in her late twenties and safely ensconced in Charlottesville, Virginia with her singer/producer husband, Paul Curreri, she has released her fifth album, Don’t Hurry For Heaven.

Singer/songwriter Devon Sproule and her husband, guitarist Paul Curreri have successfully pursued parallel careers for several years now, so it's all but inevitable that their musical paths would cross on occasion.

Singer/songwriter Sproule’s fifth CD is packed with well-written songs that view the world with a wry sense of humor. Musically, her guitarist husband Paul Curreri lets things wander into various stylistic territories, but the the addition of steel guitar wizard B.J. Cole keeps bringing the sound back to country.

Think Southern apple pie for dinner, with a nice glass of bourbon on the side, while sitting on your farm's front porch in the summer. Combining sounds of country, folk, and jazz, Devon Sproule's newest album, Don't Hurry for Heaven, is the Virgina-based singer's newest musical installment, and it's already received much critical acclaim.

Devon Sproule didn’t have to look far to find just the right producer for her new album.

Sproule, who’ll perform songs from “Don’t Hurry for Heaven” tonight at the Southern Cafe and Music Hall, recorded most of the CD while touring in England.

Devon Sproule's Don't Hurry For Heaven is a calm album that draws inspiration from folk, rock and country. The Kingston, Ont. native keeps things mellow throughout the rootsy record, channelling original folk icon Joni Mitchell with the vocals and surprise chord changes on "Good To Get Out" and opening track "Ain't That The Way."

On her delightfully engaging followup to 2007's Keep Your Silver Shined, Sproule continues her relaxed, folksy journey through this good life, making the singer/songwriter thing seem effortless and, as always, entertaining.

¡Don’t Hurry for Heaven! is a more devout way of saying "good things come to those who wait." I’m not exactly sure what it is that alt-country chanteuse Devon Sproule is waiting for, but I can’t help but feel it’s something familiar. Singing in a revealing yet conversational tone, Sproule sounds as if she’s telling you all the intimate details of her life.

On first listen, Devon Sproule’s Don’t Hurry for Heaven is every bit as lighthearted as the flowery hat the singer wears on its cover, and seemingly as lightweight, too. Full of songs about love and gardening and the musician’s life, it appears to be a sequence of diary jottings underpinned by music that’s an amiable blend of pop, folk, jazz, and country.

Don't Hurry For Heaven is a fresh, interesting and at times whimsical release from 28-year old Devon Sproule. Her sound is quirky – at times, jazz-infused contemporary folk; other times, the pedal steel and soothing rhythm pull it toward a country-western feel. Her voice is both charming and playful, falling somewhere between Victoria Williams and Tori Amos.

"Don't Hurry for Heaven" (Black Hen Music) Sproule's mix of jazz and country, along with her endearing voice that calls to mind young Maria Muldaur, make her a shining light. She plays fine guitar, as does producer Paul Curreri, who just happsns to be her husband. For real fun, check out the cover of Black Uhuru's "Sponji Reggae."

This Virginia-based singer/songwriter has built a growing reputation over the course of her now-five wondrously charming albums.

Devon Sproule mixes yodeling with reggae and twang with ballad, all under the guidance of her front and center voice. Her sardonic lyrics surprise you in conjunction with her unconcerned pop-folk instrumentation, and let you know she's sincere. She is funny and inspiring, and her album beckons summer in ruthlessly.

Ten months after seeing the light of day during May 2009 on Coventry, Warwickshire imprint Tin Angel Records, Sproule's fifth album Don't Hurry for Heaven has finally surfaced in North American on the Vancouver, BC based Black Hen Music. Appropriate somehow, as Devon was born near Kingston, ON although she spent her growing years on an intentional community in Louisa County, Virginia.

Sproule is one of those wondrous young ladies that you don’t know what to do with. If you have any sense, you’ll just slip on the headphones and enjoy her. Writing personal songs and being from Canada, lazy writers will want to make the Joni Mitchell comparisons, but the only thing they have in common is being from Canada and writing personal songs.

Even Jenny Lewis isn't this Jenny Lewis. You'll turn on Don't Hurry For Heaven!, the newest release from Devon Sproule, and you'll swear it's an old Rilo Kiley demo, re-released in a flowery new package.

I remember the first time I heard Lucinda Williams. It was in the mid eighties and she was opening for the Cowboy Junkies at a converted movie theatre in Vancouver. Even though she had a following in the States, she was relatively unknown in Canada, and before she came on stage with only an acoustic guitar between her and the audience, I’d never heard any of her music before.

Over the course of four albums—the first released when she was only 16—Canadian-born, Virginia resident Devon Sproule has evolved a musical style that sets often quirky self-written songs to a mixture of folk, vintage jazz, and country styles.

Like a Joni Mitchell or a Rickie Lee Jones, Devon Sproule makes distinctive and uncompromising music that ex- presses her unique sensibility and vision. Her quivery, almost childlike singing hark- ens back to a classic scratchy country record played on a Victrola phonograph.

Early in her career, the term “hot wifey back porch jazz” might not have explained the music of local Americana darling Devon Sproule. Her fourth album, ¡Don’t Hurry for Heaven!, might qualify, but when Matt Curreri, brother to Sproule’s husband and sometimes collaborator Paul, first used the phrase to describe Sproule’s music, she was not quite convinced.

Sproule's mix of jazz and country, along with her endearing voice that calls to mind young Maria Muldaur, make her a shining light. She plays fine guitar, as does producer Paul Curreri, who just happens to be her husband. For real fun, check out the cover of Black Uhuru's 'Sponji Reggae'.

They say Virginia is for lovers, and none of the venerable American state's inhabitants could be more suffused with love than Ontario transplant Devon Sproule.