Album Review: Multitudes by James Houlahan – A Genre-Bending Journey Worth Your Time
Alright, so let’s talk about Multitudes by James Houlahan. Released back in 2016, this album is like a musical patchwork quilt—stitched together with threads of Pop/Rock, Folk, Country, and even some World vibes. It’s one of those records that doesn’t try to fit neatly into a box, which honestly makes it all the more interesting. The fact that it came out on an independent label (Not On Label) adds to its DIY charm. You can tell there was zero pressure to conform here, and it shows.
The credits alone are kinda wild—a mix of seasoned pros and creative oddballs. You’ve got Ronan Chris Murphy pulling triple duty as producer, mixer, and mastering wizard, while Danny Frankel is credited with “Noises” alongside percussion. Like… what does that even mean? Whatever it is, it works. And how cool is it that Kaitlin Wolfberg handles both violin AND viola? That woman deserves a medal or at least a shoutout at the Grammy’s (if they had categories for underrated instrumentalists).
Now let’s get into the tracks because, honestly, there’s too much good stuff to cover all of it. I’ll focus on two songs that stuck with me: "Fires of Mercy" and "Rock Star (Dedicated To The Ruined Heroes Of The Sunset Strip)."
First up, "Fires of Mercy." This track hits different. It starts off with this haunting pedal steel guitar riff from Erik Kristiansen that feels like walking through foggy streets late at night. Then James Houlahan’s voice comes in—raw but smooth, like sandpaper wrapped in velvet. Lyrically, it’s heavy without being preachy, touching on themes of redemption and struggle. There’s something about the way the horns swell midway through—it’s not overdone, just enough to give you goosebumps. Every time I hear this song, it reminds me why music matters. It’s not just background noise; it’s storytelling that cuts deep.
Then there’s "Rock Star," which feels like a love letter to all the broken dreamers who chased fame and lost themselves along the way. The electric bassline from Fernando Perdomo grooves so hard it almost distracts you from the sadness lurking beneath the surface. Almost. When Houlahan sings, “They called us gods / We were barely men,” it hits like a punch to the gut. The dedication to “the ruined heroes of the Sunset Strip” gives it this bittersweet edge, like a faded Polaroid of someone’s glory days. If you’ve ever felt like life didn’t turn out quite how you planned, this song will wreck you—in the best possible way.
What really ties everything together is the production. Murphy clearly knew what he was doing, letting each instrument breathe while still keeping the overall sound tight. And props to Esther Clark for her vocal contributions—they add layers and texture that elevate the whole thing.
So yeah, Multitudes isn’t perfect. Some tracks feel a little repetitive if you listen straight through, and maybe the Omnichord could’ve been dialed back a smidge. But honestly? That’s part of its charm. It’s messy in the same way people are messy—flawed but beautiful.
Here’s the kicker: listening to this album made me think about how we’re all kinda like James Houlahan himself. We carry multitudes within us—different genres, emotions, stories—and sometimes we just need permission to let them all play out loud. So crank this sucker up, sit back, and let the chaos wash over you. Oh, and don’t forget to cry during "Fires of Mercy." Trust me, it’s worth it.
