Becca Mancari

Expanding beyond the homespun rootsiness of her critically acclaimed debut to incorporate a grittier, more experimental palette, Becca Mancari’s captivating new collection, ‘The Greatest Part,’ lives in a liminal space between grief and joy, pain and forgiveness, sorrow and liberation. The record, produced by Paramore drummer Zac Farro, marks a significant sonic and emotional evolution, balancing unflinching self- examination with intoxicating grooves and infectious instrumental hooks fueled by explosive percussion and fuzzed out guitars. The lyrics are raw and gutsy to match, peeling back old scars to explore the emotional and psychological turmoil Mancari weathered growing up gay in a fundamentalist Christian home, while at the same time examining the ties that continue to bind her to the family she loves. Though personal reflection is nothing new for the Nashville-based songwriter, ‘The Greatest Part’ finds Mancari digging deeper than ever before, excavating new layers of her psyche in an effort to make sense of where she’s been, where she’s headed, and most importantly, who she’s become.

“This record was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to write,” she explains. “At the same time, it was also the most freeing.”

Born on Staten Island to an Italian/Puerto Rican family whose strict religious beliefs bordered on the cult-like, Mancari spent much of her childhood wrestling with issues of identity and belonging. After college, she set out on her own, following the wind from Appalachia to Arizona, from south Florida to India, drifting in search of purpose and community. Mancari eventually found both in East Nashville, where she garnered widespread acclaim for her strikingly honest songwriting and emotionally riveting performances. ‘Good Woman,’ her 2017 debut, was a critical smash, praised by NPR for its “exquisite self-awareness” and hailed as one of the year’s best by Rolling Stone, who lauded its “confident vocals [and] spacious, hazy production.” Songs from the record racked up millions of streams on Spotify and helped land Mancari dates with the likes of Margo Price, Hurray For The Riff Raff, Shovels & Rope, Natalie Prass, and Julien Baker among others. On top of her solo work, Mancari also teamed up with Alabama Shakes frontwoman Brittany Howard and fellow songwriter Jesse Lafser to form the supergroup Bermuda Triangle, which earned similarly glowing reviews as they performed sold-out headline shows across the country and landed festival slots from Newport Folk to XPoNential.

This is personal music, performed by a storyteller who's lived and loved. Born in Staten Island to an Italian-Irish preacher and a Puerto Rican mother, Becca spent her childhood moving around the East Coast. It's no surprise, then, that she found herself drawn to a group of train hoppers in central Virginia, where she relocated as a teenager to attend college. Surrounded by fellow travelers, Becca began to make music — not the kind of music she made during her earlier years, when she sang in her father's church — but music for front porches, for bonfires, for slow dances and road trips, and train rides and new romances. The sound was inspired by everything from Bob Dylan's Highway 61 Revisited to Neil Young'sHarvest Moon, not to mention the Appalachian folk music that her Virginia friends played. It was bold and broad, and it sounded like Becca Mancari.

After college, Becca continued her travels, eventually winding up in the musical hotbed of Nashville, Tennessee. There, she continues writing songs that blur the lines between genres, sharing shows with artists like Hurray For The Riff Raff and Natalie Prass along the way. She jumps from the acoustic desert-rock of "Golden" to the ramshackle root sounds of "Summertime Mama," showing off the full range of her music. Produced by Adam Landry and Justin Collins (Deer Tick, Middle Brother, Diamond Rugs, Lilly Hiatt) and recorded with members of her touring band, the music is a snapshot from a musician who's still on the move, constantly writing songs about the people she's met and the impression they leave.The recordings aren't perfect, and Becca likes that. Because life isn't perfect.

"Things that are perfect tend to sound flatlined," she explains. "There's no 'human' there. I like to hear the person when I listen to songs. And I hope people can hear me.”