Maddie & Tae Keep It Sugary and Self-Assured on ‘The Way It Feels’

Adi Mehta

Maddie & Tae broke into the scene with their 2014 single “Girl In a Country Song,” a timely rebuttal to the “bro-country” trend sweeping the nation. The song made singer-songwriters Maddie Marlow and Tae Dye the second female country duo in history to reach number one with a debut single. A string of successful singles on country radio followed, as the rising stars built plenty of momentum and drew critical acclaim. Their first album, 2015’s “Start Here” showcased a sound at once sugary and self-assured, and a set of songs that captured the essence of young love with a fresh, effortless cool. On their follow up, “The Way It Feels,” Maddie and Tae exude the same spirit, but channel it into material that reflects a different point in their lives. Now both happily married, they bring with them a wealth of experience that makes for universally relatable country fare. The new songs explore the ins and out of relationships from various angles, fitting straightforward, sincere subject matter to memorable harmonies and catchy tunes.

A third of the tracks on the album are giddy, lighthearted love songs, beginning with opener “Everywhere I’m Goin’.” The breezy harmonies and excess of twang immediately set the stage, and Maddie and Tae make a strong first impression, demanding attention with their ability to fine tune their voices to the sentiment of a particular song. In this case, one voice is bold and assertive, the other wispy and light, effectively conveying a mix of emotions that add new dimension to lyrics that derive most of their appeal from their straightforward simplicity. The song is about being so smitten that you see the best of everything in someone, an idea expressed through a litany of regional references, for instance “strong like a Tennessee hickory” and “smooth like the bourbon Kentucky.” Aside from a “Paris sunset,” all descriptions are decidedly American, in proper Country fashion. 

“My Man” is a more direct expression of the same sentiment, perhaps a bit too direct as the lyrics come across as quite throwaway. Maddie and Tae do not claim to be high poets, and no one wants them to be, but it might not hurt to be a bit more creative. A premature chorus exacerbates the rather uninspired lyrics, making the whole affair seem a bit lazy. Nevertheless, this is a relaxed number with a melody that captures the daydream-ey essence of lyrics, with hushed harmonies sounding like afterthoughts of lasting impressions. “Trying On Rings” is a more winsome track altogether. Maddie and Tae zero in on a sound that’s sweet without being too gushy, evoking romantic instincts held at bay with a winking restraint. Light and charged with ambiance, it effectively captures a certain type of lighthearted young romance as it develops “From some silly seventeen fling / To trying on rings.

“Write a Book,” about being so good at loving that you ought to write a book, is a somewhat interesting angle for a love song, silly as it may be. The song is appropriately buoyant and upbeat, and the band showcase an impressive chemistry, with the guitarists’ jaunty licks complementing Maddie’s and Tae’s whimsical outpourings, and a catchy singalong chorus sealing it all together. “Friends Don’t,” a song about falling in love with someone previously just a friend, is a similarly spirited, jaunty number. It finds the ladies sInging with a certain spring in their step, as if happy with a secret, over a frolicsome backdrop, replete with prominent banjo and all the works. 

While the album is basically split between expressions of infatuation and reflections in the aftermath of a breakup, a few songs lie somewhere in between. First is “Die From a Broken Heart” which would seem a tortured song, from its title, but comes across quite light musically, not dissimilar in mood to “Trying On Rings.” The refrain of “Mama, can you die from a broken heart?” has a playful ring to it in its childish innocence, as if to essentially say “Look how deeply I’m affected,” entertaining hopes all the while of ultimately mending the heart in question. Similarly, “Ain’t There Yet” is about still being under someone’s spell. Heavy reverb gives a strikingly different sound, as does a hefty rock chorus, with “Na na na” vocals that give the sense of going through the motions, letting infatuation run its course. “Lay Here WIth Me,” a duet with Dierks Bentley, another song arising from the same headspace, is about brushing differences to the side because the romantic pull overpowers them. Every harmony and every guitar lick seems to have a purpose, and Bentley is a perfect fit for the song, his deep, sonorous voice complementing the ladies’ gentle, honeyed tones so well that it makes a case for Maddie and Tae doing more duets. 

Then come the breakup ballads and all the rest. “Tourist In This Town,” a love song from a powerfully relatable angle, describes a situation in which every location in a town is tied to a memory with a previous flame, leading one to take, say, a five mile detour just to avoid running into people, or even just face one’s own memories. Of course, such problems would be magnified in a small town, which makes the Country aesthetic particularly suitable. There’s an instant melancholy in both chords and voice tone, as well as a certain accepting abandon in the ever expressive harmonies. For an album with so much material born of relationship drama, Maddie and Tae generally put a positive spin on things, and this is probably the album’s most forlorn moment. The other contender would be “Water In His Wine Glass,” a thematic outlier in that it’s neither a smitten love song nor a breakup ballad, although it could easily be the indirect product of a relationship gone awry. Essentially an interventional prayer for an alcoholic, it finds the singers getting unabashedly preachy, throwing out lines like “Would you take that red wine, turn it into words in red.” This song will surely be touching for certain people, but cringey, sanctimonious anathema for others. At any rate, it’s one of the most well realized songs sonically, showing a rare softer music, with the pristine vocal harmonies and gliding steel guitar, over the barebones acoustic background, making an especially poignant display.

The remaining songs are born out of heartbreak, but informed by resilience — exercises in turning a frown upside down. “Bathroom Floor” is a heavier, feelgood number with abundant banjo and driving rock guitar. The title refers to a locale of shifting significance, first the scene of sobbing, then of recovery after a night out on the town. It’s a bit of good fun, although the oveready chorus and canned party sensibility can come across as a bit tawdry, not quite as spirited as intended. “Drunk or Lonely” stands out for the audible attitude in the singing — a vague snarl, a coy suggestion in the forced restraint and the curling of vowels. The title here is dismissively applied to a former flame reaching out in vain. The chorus is catchy, although not necessarily in the best way, and the song suffers slightly from the hasty rush to hooks that holds back several other tracks. Having turned down a suitor’s advances, Maddie and Tae go on to warn others on “One Heart to Another.” The track revisits the sonic mood of “Tourist In this Town,” which makes sense as it’s another song written in the aftermath of a breakup. Featherweight guitar bends complement the hushed, delicate voices, and both singers sound flawless, conveying the feeling of composure in trauma, grace in struggle. 

“I Don’t Need to Know” brings back the snarl of “Drunk or Lonely” in its assertive refrain of  “I don’t need to know who’s keepin’ you company.” Like many other songs on the album, it stands out for the masterful character acting. The speaker here is affected, but trying not to seem so, and the part could hardly be played better. Finally, the rebound tune comes in “New Dog Old Tricks,” a standout both lyrically and sonically. Talking trash in a flirtatious tone, Maddie and Tae call out all nonsense with  hilarious lyrics like “Got a trust fund beard like Moses / Betcha gotta spend a lot to look that homeless.” With plenty of verve, captured consummately in the offhand guitar stylings, the saucy singing, and the mobilizing chorus, it rounds the album off in proper style. 

“The Way It Feels” is a natural progression for Maddie and Tae, channeling the same youthful spirit that defined their debut into slightly more grown up avenues. This is quite obviously music that caters to a very specific niche, and has little appeal outside of its narrow target market. That said, for what it is, it’s a sure success. Granted, the duo could benefit from some more artistry and discipline. Just being a little more poetic, or drawing out the songs a bit instead of rushing to readymade choruses, could elevate the songs to a different rank altogether. Still, there’s plenty to enjoy here. One feature that sets these singers apart is their ability to concentrate a mix of emotions and convey them with an effortless cool, in a way that can fashion casual musings into rather weighty fare. Most importantly, Maddie and Tae excel at their craft. Their voices are poignant, their melodies and harmonies are memorable, and the band is in perfect sync, making for an effective full package.

“The Way It Feels” is available April 10 on Apple Music.