Laura Huval, It’s Never Too Late (Independent)

 

For nearly a decade, Sweet Cecilia’s Laura Huval has felt the calling to pray more with her music. Still, it wasn’t until she became the music teacher at a Lafayette Catholic school that she hit her stride writing faith-based songs. Eventually, Huval felt compelled to share her gifts on a bigger platform, so she gathered various friends and family members to record these eight originals with co-producer/engineer Tony Daigle at Dockside and Electric Comoland studios. 

The result is It’s Never Too Late and it’s not the commercial-sounding, homogenized spiritual music that’s heard on mainstream Christian radio. Instead, it’s an honest reflection of her beliefs.

Her messages are never overbearing or guilt-inducing and are often applicable to everyday life, such as “Stop your worrying / it’ll drive you crazy,” as heard on the title track. Her startling, beautiful voice offers comfort and reassurance, especially on the austerely arranged “Footprints” and “Servant Heart” that feature the gentle piano and cello accompaniment of Shane Guidry and Caleb Elliot, respectively.

The album’s most stunning moment occurs on “Joyful Noise,” where she admits her mortality and anticipates the afterlife.  She references her late father, beloved Cajun musician Al Berard, by singing, “I’ll sing with my daddy again / We’ll make sweet music with the angel band,” a line that’s simultaneously bone-chilling and tearfully uplifting. 

While all the outpouring of her beliefs, thoughts, and sentiments are undeniable, so are Huval’s indigenous musical roots. “Make Room” sways to a swamp pop lilt; husband Ade seasons in a mild zydeco accordion flavor on “It’s Never Too Late.” “Stay Back” blends three genres, a country shuffle and zydeco that ultimately launch into a rip-roaring, hand-clapping gospel for a rousing finale. 

While the background choir of Erica Fox, Charlene Howard, Sharona Thomas and Huval, of course, pack a wallop on “Stay Back,” Huval is her own mighty choir on “Soul of My Savior.” Over a bed of droning accordion, she dubbed three-part harmonies to portray vulnerability while begging for atonement. When she hits the high notes, she attacks them with a hair-raising vengeance. Now that’s testifying.