Review: Benjamin Tod ‘Vengeance And Grace’
An album from Lost Dog Street Band frontman Benjamin Tod wasn’t on my bingo card for 2026…
Following the man on Instagram, the vibe has been one of consolidation: marking time, assessing where he is in life, and stepping away from much of the grind of the music industry machine to focus on community-based projects. Last year, he announced that the band would go on an indefinite hiatus, and that his solo material would embrace his love of honky-tonk – a vision that began to take shape on his last solo album, Shooting Star.
Tod and his partner and long-running bandmate, Ashley Mae, recently welcomed their first child into the world, so the band’s indefinite pause seemed to signal a quiet period ahead for fans of one of the finest songwriters of our time. However, that has proved not to be the case. The singer unveiled a new ‘honky-tonking machine’, Benjamin Tod & The Inline Six, who will be touring coast to coast at the end of the year. Following a run of singles, including the Shooter Jennings-produced Hell I Have, comes his latest solo outing: the double LP Vengeance And Grace.
Rather than a sprawling mass of songs owed to an inability to self-edit or a desire to stroke the ego, the album is split into ‘two parallel worlds’. It features ten tracks performed first with a full band, and then again in the raw, intimate, stripped-down acoustic state of Alone. This juxtaposition attempts to show the duality of the performer and shines a light on the individual compositions. It asks you to absorb them in different ways, often revealing the balance between the message of the lyrics and the way it can be interpreted.
As someone who has always been drawn to his music – the darkness and pain he once embraced, such as on the Grammy nominated Weight Of A Trigger album – this is not just a top-notch collection of fine country tunes. It is an album that manages to be beautiful, sentimental, yet cuttingly emotional and honest in the way only he can deliver.
It would be impossible to review the album track by track in the short space I have, but presented in its running order, the ten tracks transition seamlessly from one to another. Together, they form a narrative that flows and complements the dichotomy and complexity of existence.
Starting with the title track, the honky-tonk vibe he has embraced seems indicative of this period of mental peace. The upbeat swing makes the track a celebration of triumph, with lines like ‘and the violence wasn’t needed after all’ ringing out over the toe-tapping rhythm, ably driven on by the swish of brushed drums and the violins that back it up.
The Alone version feels quieter, more introspective, and tilted towards regret. The solo spotlight feels more mournful and hits like an emotional wrecking ball. The isolation in his voice is as captivating as ever and the bare accompaniment provide a stark focus, giving the exact same words an entirely different slant.
an album that manages to be beautiful, sentimental, yet cuttingly emotional and honest in the way only he can deliver…
This duelling atmosphere is constant throughout the whole album. The way Vengeance And Grace is structured means that you get two completely different atmospheres; comparing the individual confessional diary entries highlights that some work better in one format than the other. This doesn’t mean that any one version is worse than the other, but the tone of tracks like End Of My Rope benefit from the lush swell of the organ and dramatic stabs of the music behind the words. This lends it an uplifting, gospel-like tone, showing how Tod has moved through the stages of grief in his life to emerge as whole as he is. Conversely, the stark acoustic version has a more sombre, funereal air that feels like a man awaiting his judgement.
The uniting drive behind both sides is the incredible level of storytelling that comes with the music. Having lived more life than singers twice his age and far more authentic than many who market themselves as such to a greedy, exploitative industry, Tod throws out killer lines like ‘I wouldn’t trade my peace for the keys to the underground’ on literally every song. It is this subtle eye for detail and poetry that makes him stand out from all the plastic industry plants.
This mercurial ability to slip between worlds, where he can write something capable of being an anthem, like Goner or Ticket Home – which, if you close your eyes when hearing the full-band versions could easily light up an audience of baying fans. These contrast with the vulnerable, bittersweet musings of the goodbye missive Closing The Door, a track rendered all the more heart wrenching by the Alone version.
The strange beauty of Vengeance And Grace being two completely different albums in tone is that it lends itself to entirely separate listening experiences. I have had this album for a considerable amount of time, and some days I welcome the laid-back, forward-moving, celebratory feel of the first ten tracks; other times I have wanted to sit in the pain of the emotions, acknowledging the sadness and regret in a pure, uncomfortable, but necessary catharsis.
There has been no doubt for quite some time now that Tod is a songwriter for the ages. Whether he is weaving personal tales or delivering the hard-won insight he has gained along the way – such as on the knowing sermon of Martyr Of A Man – or the sober wisdom of The Bottle’s Gone, laced with wry observational pith like ‘It’s a cardinal curse, from across the pond’, drives home the point that we are the ones who determine our own fate.
Once more, Tod walks the line between honouring tradition and striking out on his own path, articulated best on the track of the same name, ‘I ain’t bound by anything’.
Label: Thirty Tigers
Band Links: Official | Facebook | Bandcamp | Spotify | Instagram
Scribed by: Mark Hunt-Bryden
