Jessie Murph, That Ain’t No Man That’s The Devil Review

by Eliana Fermi

In her debut album, That Ain’t No Man That’s The Devil, Jessie Murph strips away any illusion of boundaries—between genres or emotions—and serves up an album as raw and unfiltered as her own story. At just 19, the Alabama native packs a lifetime of emotional experiences into 12 tracks that span country, pop, hip-hop, and soul, creating a resonant and diverse soundscape.

The opening track, “Gotta Hold,” immediately grabs your attention. Murph’s expressive vocals glide through a wordless vocal part before locking in with a banjo and rhythmic dance beat. Her control over glissandos pulls every ounce of emotion from the lyrics, balancing long, contoured notes with more rhythmic articulation, revealing her dynamic range as a singer and a storyteller.

The collaborations on this album stand out as well. “Dirty,” featuring Teddy Swims, is a powerhouse duet that blends soul and pop with a country grit. Both artists pull on their deep reserves of vocal intensity. Their combined emotion feels almost like a conversation between heartbreak and betrayal, each note laced with vulnerability and strength.

Tracks like “Son of a Bitch” and “It Ain’t Right” showcase Murph’s ability to navigate different genres with ease. In “Son of a Bitch,” a slow groove accented with banjo creates an emotional weight under Murph’s expressive voice, while hip-hop rhythms in the verse and pre-chorus push the song into other territory. Similarly, “It Ain’t Right” introduces electronic elements into a six-eight groove, driving home the album’s recurring themes of defiance and emotional confrontation.

Murph has called “I Hope It Hurts” one of the album’s most personal and powerful songs, and it lives up to her words. With a soulful twelve-eight rhythm reminiscent of Motown’s heyday, the track is a vocal tour de force. Her bluesy embellishments and powerhouse upper register show her technical skill and the emotional depths she can reach as she sings of hurt and healing.

While the album deals heavily with themes of heartbreak and betrayal, “Love Lies” provides this emotion in a refreshing mix of dance beats and a rock groove, layered with acoustic guitar. The descending melodic lines in the chorus offer a lingering earworm, and Murph’s vocal inflections perfectly match the pain behind the lyrics. The track has an evolving intensity, showcasing the layered production and Murph’s ability to craft emotionally compelling narratives.

“Wild Ones” with Jelly Roll and “High Road” featuring Koe Wetzel are prime examples of the genre-blending that defines Murph’s style. The former pairs a country groove with electro-pop vibes, creating a rebellious anthem for rule-breakers, while the latter’s country-rock fusion places Wetzel and Murph’s voices in the spotlight. Their chemistry is undeniable, creating an electric tension in the track.

The album reaches its emotional peak in songs like “Cold” and “Bang Bang (The Ballad of Amy Fisher),” where Murph dives deeper into the storytelling aspect of her music. In “Cold,” her voice carries an almost tangible sense of loss and longing, while “Bang Bang,” with its country-inspired guitar and rhythmic swing, captures a moment of lyrical reflection that feels timeless and contemporary.

Murph closes the album with “I Could Go Bad,” a ballad steeped in 1950s rock with shades of soul influence, where her falsetto shines. The song’s length and lyrical structure allow her to stretch the emotional tension, showing her maturity as an artist who can build a song’s narrative over time.

With That Ain’t No Man That’s The Devil, Jessie Murph emerges as a fearless voice in the modern music landscape, unafraid to cross genre boundaries and speak her truth. This album is not just a collection of songs—it’s a cathartic release of pain, hope, and resilience, delivered with all the emotional punch her growing audience has come to expect. That’s the short of it!

Connect with Jessie Murph: Website |