Kayla Mahon – Right on the Money: Album Review

Kayla Mahon hails from Riversdale in the deep South, a stone’s throw from New Zealand’s country music capital, Gore, where she works and commutes from the farm whilst bringing up two kids and a husband.

Southern Gal. Busy life. No time for anything else except music. Kayla writes, teaches and performs music. Country music. That’s what you do down there. It’s in the blood, it’s in the soil, it swirls around like wind through the tussocks. Country music from tussock country.

After more than two decades (they start ‘em young down in Gore) winning local and national awards, including two Gold Guitars, Kayla Mahon realizes a dream and releases her first album, on Penny Arcade Records, which means Nashville, Gore’s slightly more famous elder sister.

It’s called Right on the Money, seven succinct songs which punch above their weight, and the title track opens the gig acoustically before power chords immediately make you want to move. So far so good. Right on the money.

Kayla Mahon may have a southern twang, but it could be from both versions of South. The country music south of New Zealand, but equally from the deep American South of Tennessee and Texas.

Tussock country meets Dolly Parton country.

Love’s Got a Witness is another country rocker with a poppy feel, starting with a solid beat before chivvying up to a regular rocky groove. Quintessential Nashville sound, beautifully produced by Jay Tooke, who also plays guitar, banjo and drums (but not at the same time).

Cameos from acclaimed session man James Pennebaker (that’s a wow) on steel. Ryan Sorestad co-writes all but one song and plays piano, and Jackson Eppley fills out the rhythm on bass.

Little Man, a song about how much there is to learn from kids, in this case Kayla’s son. Fearless and fancy free, magic which we lose as we get older, every day’s a school day. Acoustic intro, slower start, before a solid beat emerges. Drumming which defines the sound of this record, and shimmering guitar brings riff to the rock.

Bombshell Bobby could be Bobbie Gentry, taking the Rock out of Country with a real southern stomp. Driving riffs and power shreds, right out of Harper Valley.

It’s about now that people get up and sing along. Waiting for and wanting the next bombshell. There ain’t no doubt, she might flatten you out. You get the picture?

Bringing up two kids and a husband is not a slip of the pen, especially when said husband gets his kicks out of metal and thinks the sound of steel is like alley cats screeching. What a hoot! How indeed on earth can I marry a Man That Doesn’t Like Country? Tongue in cheek, that’s how, and a truly great Country song. This must be a hit. It just has to be.

Ok, the fun is over, the audience is exhausted from clapping and stomping, dancing and prancing, time to give us a rest. The last two songs slow us down. We catch our breath and listen in silence to the beauty of Home in that Vinyl. A paean to platter, reverence normally reserved for biblical moments.

And finally, we sit, like Angels Biding Time, and listen to a song co-written with fellow Gore music star, Jenny Mitchell, which celebrates life’s final moments. Inspired by Kayla’s grandfather singing How Great Thou Art as the angels patiently wait.

It’s too short, we want more, but simply playing Kyla Mahon’s Right on the Money again, and then again is far from a bad thing to do. In fact, I recommend it. Play it again. And again…. Play it all night long.

Roger Bowie