THE WAR AND TREATY’S SACRED/SECULAR DUALITY

Michael and Tanya Trotter are a convection oven of love, faith and roots forms. Named The War and Treaty after something Tanya said to her husband during a disagreement, the woman who got her first record deal at 16 and the PTSD-afflicted Iraqi vet who started writing songs during active duty understand the potency of musical alliances.

The duo—Folk Alliance’s 2020 Artist of the Year, the Americana Music Association’s 2019 Emerging Artist and 2022 Duo/Group of the Year—transcend genres through primal passion. With the Dave Cobb-produced Lover’s Game (Mercury Nashville), they’ve fashioned an album fusing steamy Muscle Shoals with classic Hank Williams country.

From the title track’s robust thump onward, the Trotters exude pure joy. Conjuring a juke-joint euphoria that’s all raving backbeat, thick slabs of electric guitar and Tanya’s scalding breakout squalls over their synchronized harmonies, they’re the Everlys as husband and wife, but set on fire.

The undulating gospel of “Blank Page” features Michael Trotter’s Al Green-evoking lead, a testimony to love as sanctifying source. More than Marvin Gaye’s “Sexual Healing,” the track glorifies transformative power of loving another from both the broken and hopeful places. That church-informed delivery gives Lovers’ Game its voltage; Michael Trotter’s classic Sunday-morning piano sets the tone as Philip Towns’ rising organ reinforces its grip.

They explore Chris Stapleton’s soul-country on “Ain’t No Harming Me,” a sweeping declaration of faith amid peril, followed by the ’70s Kenny Rogers-style love-through-it-all paean “Yesterday’s Burn.” Making music for grown-ups, The War and Treaty offer depth in performance: Their tone matches their lyrics to heighten the heft of emotions they offer with their performances. Factoring in their relationship, “Burn” especially seems derived from their lived life lessons.

The album’s second half is a more philosophical consideration of gratitude, finding someone to build a life with and how they serve their time on earth. Like Aretha Franklin, who understood the place of higher power in life’s basic moments, the Trotters charge these songs with witness to life, but also to God. “Dumb Luck” is the perfect distillation: first her voice burning, then his kiln-forged baritone coiling through strings, a few piano notes and an atmospheric room; each lists the personal details before they come together in wide-open praise.

Vital and fiery, The War and Treaty draft an authentic Southern revival feeling. More than a contemporary Christian record that yearns to be pop, Lover’s Game transcends the metaphor game of savior or paramour, having it both ways at once.

If “Angel” is a steel-guitar-swathed homage to the lover who can provide redemption in this world, the gentle “Up Yonder,” as much a lullaby as a hymn (it quotes “When The Roll Is Called Up Yonder”), delivers the conviction that true love will take what is good here and reunite people in heaven. The Trotters’ faith, in a world of big-box religion, satellite churches and televangelists, suggests God’s plan is smaller; He provides the reasons to believe in Him and each other.

“Have You A Heart” opens with simple organ-piano interplay as Michael confesses his conflicts, troubles and desires. Drums and minimal bass appear as Tanya meets her husband’s supplications, a stride rhythm carrying them higher. For something so raw, the closing benediction creates a space of truth and salvation, the combustion that comes from magnifying that deeper love in another’s soul. Only the work of a couple who recognized the stakes, faced tough things and grew closer through adversity could create a surrender in the rough places that can’t be faked.

Whether it’s Jesus, Buddha, Ganesh or Yahweh, The War and Treaty deliver on the promise of the sacred for the profane. Sweltering and musically robust, the strength of their love and their voices makes Lover’s Game one for the ages.