Mark Montijo's If I Get to Heaven feels like a quiet ode to a bygone era of folk music, one that’s deeply tied to the golden age of songwriting in the '70s. If Joni Mitchell, Joan Baez, and Bob Dylan were the architects of storytelling in song, Montijo emerges as a respectful steward of that tradition. His album brings you back to a time when lyrics carried more weight, and acoustic arrangements were the vessel for deep introspection. It’s a rarity today—radio airwaves hardly make room for this brand of folk anymore—but If I Get to Heaven is a gentle reminder of its enduring power.
From the first listen, it’s clear that Montijo’s influences run parallel to those of an older generation, but there's no mistaking that his voice is wholly his own. He sings with the weathered warmth of someone who’s lived—and reflected—on life’s various turns. His voice, rich with experience, invites listeners into his world, where each song feels like a window into his thoughts on everything from mortality to love. It’s a voice that isn't trying to impress; it simply exists, delivering his musings with a grounded calmness.
The album itself is filled with understated emotion—peaks and valleys, yes, but never in extremes. It's as if Montijo took the advice from Queen’s “Little high, little low” lyric to heart. There’s a stoic undercurrent here, a sense of peace in the reflection, even as heavier themes like death linger. The songwriting is deliberate, the instrumentation acoustic and stripped down, making room for every word to land with clarity. It’s the kind of record that pulls you in without shouting, making its mark through subtlety.
For fans of '70s folk who long for that storytelling touch, If I Get to Heaven feels like a rare find. In a music landscape saturated with overproduction and noise, Montijo offers something simple yet deeply affecting—a record that is both a reflection of its time and a timeless listen.
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