Album Review: Lindi Ortega–Liberty

Rating: 9/10

If Lindi Ortega has done nothing else with this record, she’s at least effectively released a case for why Bobby Bones’ idiotic philosophy that artists should only release singles and not albums is complete bullshit. She should get a 12/10 for that alone.

Lindi Ortega has one of those voices that’s made for telling darker stories, for capturing the raw emotions in characters filled with despair and desperation. She’s admitted that some of her material is personal, but she’s also just been blessed with a voice specifically tailored for songs like the haunting “Murder of Crows” or the painful, pleading “Ashes.” Most recently, she gave us an EP that came from the very depths of her soul, written after she nearly gave up on music altogether.

Read: Review: Lindi Ortega- Till the Goin’ Gets Gone EP

If Kacey Musgraves needed to show us more humanity, Lindi Ortega represents the opposite end of the spectrum, wearing her heart painfully on her sleeve for us all to hear. But just as she eventually found hope and a resolve to continue making music, she wants her listeners to find their own hope and joy in life and take something meaningful from her art. So she’s given us the concept album Liberty, the journey of a character coming out of darkness and depression and into the light of hope and life, set with a western backdrop and delivered with a cinematic feel.

And frankly, Liberty is quite a lot to take in. Those who like western themes and sounds will immediately enjoy this for its smoky, dusty atmosphere and references to horses and open skies. The production on this thing is just outstanding, and credit to Ortega for having this vision and seeing it through because country is a lyric-driven genre primarily, and telling part of the story musically is a risk within the format. It’s similar in that sense–and obviously in the sense of the themes–to Marty Stuart’s Way out West. But unlike on that album, the lyrics and underlying story are essential components of Liberty. Lindi Ortega said herself that she wanted listeners to see themselves in this character, and for that reason, the connections here can sometimes be vague–in fact, the vagueness in some of it is the biggest factor holding this album back from a perfect rating here. To that end, my interpretation of this narrator’s journey might be one of several and ultimately differ slightly from yours, but the best way to tell the album’s story and give it a proper review is to take that journey right along with the character Lindi created. The three movements are described as such by Ortega herself;, but the description of individual songs is solely my own.

Darkness and Loss

1. “Through the dust, Pt 1”–Serves as the intro for this whole journey, introducing the dusky, western vibes that permeate this whole album. Minor chords immediately establish that we’re starting this thing in quite a dark place.

2. “Afraid of the Dark”–This is just an introduction to her state of mind. She’s warning everyone around her, and possibly all us listeners as well, “Don’t come any closer to my heart if you’re afraid of the dark.” She comes across here as defiant, accepting that she spreads darkness around her and willing to stand alone, almost daring us to run away from her. The music behind this can only be described as haunting, building into the intense conclusion of the song which almost sounds like the sound track to a horror movie.

3. “You Ain’t Foolin’ Me”–I have to interject that this is just a kickass rock song and one of the standouts of the record, even on its own apart from the narrative. As for the story, this connection is one of the vaguer ones, but I think it’s referring to the people the narrator thinks she can trust but can’t. Deep down, she doesn’t really want to be alone on an island of despair, but she can’t trust anyone, especially not these backstabbing hypocrites who smile to her face and lie behind her back–“you think you’re foolin’ me, but you ain’t.”

4. “Til my Dyin’ Day”–Now we come to a softer, more country moment with lots of steel guitar crying out in the mix. Until now, we’ve seen that she’s angry and defiant and pushing people away, but we haven’t seen why. She has finally let the walls down to reveal the incredible sadness beneath the anger, the pain of the loss of her lover. This also makes the previous track make a bit more sense, as he was the one that was there for her despite everything, and now he’s gone. It also means she could have been lashing out in anger at others before instead of really dealing with this depression, a common response to the loss of a loved one.

5. “Nothing is Impossible”–IN this dreamlike track, she’s gone from resolved to crying till the end of her days to determined to bring him back. She plays his records, wears the dress that he loved, and tries to make everything the way it was before he died. She’s even resorted to bargaining with the devil–“I’d let the devil just take my soul if he’d give me back my man.” She’s reached her lowest point of darkness and despair here, ready to just stop living.

Resurrection

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fO87T44tAY4

6. “Through the Dust, Pt. 2”–We’re on to the second section of the story, but this version of the theme song is punctuated by a gunshot, the shot that is referred to in the next song as the one that metaphorically kills her.

7. “The Comeback Kid”–I hated this song before it was released ahead of the album, and I still hated it through several listens. I finally accepted its position here when I caught the line, “I’m still alive, so I guess I’ll try living instead.” It connects the whole thing; she couldn’t stop living physically, so if she’s going to stay around, she might as well try actually living emotionally. However, she is basically hell-bent on revenge here. She’s not at peace yet, but at least she’s got a reason to wake up in the morning.

8. “Darkness be Gone”–But revenge can only work as a motive for living for so long, and here, she’s relapsing, feeling the pull of the darkness and the devil in the verses calling her to give in. There is some great musical stuff going on here, as she’s making use of the tritone, or the “devil’s tone,” named so because it’s the harshest, most dissonant interval in music and was actually thought at one time to call up the devil, during the verses. IN the choruses, she can hear the angels helping her to resist the devil. It’s also the first time we hear the word “light” on this record, as she’s struggling to fight the darkness for the first time and make her way toward it. This one is a direct reason why you have to understand the concept of this album because on its own, it’s honestly just weird, but here, it’s a transition point for the entire thing.

9. “Forever Blue”–Now our heroine has made a conscious decision to follow the light and turn away from the darkness and past behind her. Using the western metaphors, she’s vowing to ride her horse out of the storm and focus on the light. Unlike the last one, this song works well on its own and serves as a standout here.

10. “In the Clear”–Not much to say about this track, and it’s one where the writing is rather weak, but basically, it sees her finally at peace and content, having put the past firmly behind her. She and her horse, it seems, have finally come to a place of rest.

11. “Pablo”–Even though she’s found peace of mind, however, she’s still alone. That all changes when Pablo arrives with a guitar on his back. The Latin influences and Spanish chorus really add to this track. It often takes loving yourself first in order to truly be able to love another, and that’s why she’s now ready for this kind of commitment. I had several theories on why, after the last two peaceful tracks, this one is dark again, with its minor chords and more intense production. It seems on the surface that she’d be happy now that she has him, but the song also refers to him having a “broken, tortured soul” and speaking to her past pain through his music. It makes sense, in the same way in which people who have come out of abusive relationships might be fine within themselves but then meeting someone new triggers the old memories and pain. Sometimes it takes working through this pain, or in her case, the pain of loss, to truly heal, and that’s ultimately what I think this song was going for.

12. “Lovers in Love”–Probably the most country for all you traditionalists, with some really cool harmonica. And what a happy track, describing the difference between lovers who walk away and “lovers in love,” as Lindi calls them, who stand by each other through thick and thin, no matter what the cost. One would assume our narrator has found this kind of lasting love with Pablo and is now truly happy.

Freedom

13. “Through the dust, Pt 3”–The intro again, this time coming to us in a peaceful, tranquil form with prominent piano.

14. “Liberty”–The title track, once again exploring those Latin influences, and seeing her and her lover finally free from their past. You can see why this record is so named because reaching this liberty is the ultimate end to the character’s journey.

15. “Gracias a la Vida”–Her final benediction, a song of thanks for all the little things in life, from her eyesight to her hearing to the way she can see her beloved in the crowd. It’s a cover, but a brilliant choice of one, as Ortega sings of both joy and sadness, described in the song as the two elements of her song that she shares with everyone, and both themes that run through this entire record. With this track, she concludes the story well and also adds more of that Latin influence which marked the album.

Overall

This concept is a bit vague at times, but mostly, it is played out really well over the course of the album. The different influences, from country to rock to Latin, really gave this a nice variety, and the western atmosphere in the production serves as a worthy backdrop. Occasionally, the writing in the individual songs is weak, although the connections between the tracks are often stronger in these songs. Sometimes, Lindi Ortega is a little flat vocally, and I do wish she’d had more moments where all her raw power, so common on earlier releases, could have been unleashed. These are both minor criticisms, but my biggest problem is the vagueness that occasionally exists in the underlying story. It keeps this album from being a ten because in trying to relate to more people, Ortega made the concept too broad in a couple places. Still, these are criticisms made by virtue of the standard to which I hold Lindi Ortega, as well as the high bar this album sets for her. Basically, I’m saying the only problem with this great record is that it had the potential to be even better. That said, this is the best album I’ve heard so far in 2018. Go give it a listen.

Buy the Album

Album Review – Ashley McBryde – Girl Going Nowhere

Rating: 7.5/10

Before listening to this album, the only thing I’d heard from Ashley McBryde was “A Little Dive Bar in Dahlonega”. I liked her voice in that song, and I found the chorus catchy. The subject of making the best of a bad day is something I think is very important. Now that I’ve listened to this album, that song is still one of my favorites, but Ashley McBryde’s music has a lot of good things going for it, aside from just that one song.

The album starts off with the title track. It’s also one of my favorites. According to the description on apple Music, the song is autobiographical. Ashley had a teacher who said she’d never get anywhere by playing music. Even when she defied said teacher’s expectations and made it, though, Ashley still had people saying that she’d crash and burn. Still, the draw of the crowd and doing what she loved kept her dreams afloat, and though it hurt when people said those things, Ashley still kept on going. After the acoustic production of this song, “Radioland” came as quite a surprise. It’s an upbeat track, with some great guitar. While I would usually not go for this kind of thing on a country album, the whole rock sound works well for Ashley’s voice, which is good as she’s got more where that came from. This particular song is all about listening to the radio as she grew up, and the memories she had. I liked the flow of the song, and it made for a nice, somewhat lighter moment.

“American Scandal” is one of my least favorite songs on the album. It’s pleasant to listen to, but it just doesn’t stick out. It’s a relationship song. She wants the passion of scandals past. I guess things are just too vague for me to really relate to the characters in this one. “Southern Babylon” is an interesting song. It’s all about her going to Hell, where she had to play guitar in flames. While discussing this song with Megan, she said it was awesome for someone to put a song about going to Hell on their debut album. She also wished that the production had been different, and when she said that, I realized my problem with this song. I wish it had been rougher, maybe more upbeat, something instrumentally to indicate the theme of the song. Overall, I think this track was an awesome idea, I just wish it had been executed differently.

We go from Hell to memories. “The Jacket” is the next track, and it’s all about her father’s old jean jacket. It had seen many of his memories, and he ultimately gives it to her so that she could feel like he was with her. I do love this song. It takes being materialistic and turns it around. The object actually has a meaning. “Living Next to Leroy” is a fun and upbeat song, despite the lyrics revolving around getting high. It’s another nostalgia-laced song, wherein she talks about her neighbor who was big into drugs. In the end of the song, she gets her diploma, and Leroy isn’t there to be proud of her.

“Andy (I Can’t Live Without You)” is a softer song. The instrumentation is mostly made up of guitar, and her tone is softer. It’s all about a relationship wherein her boyfriend drives her crazy, but she can’t seem to live without him. I loved how this song portrayed how relationships are never perfect, and even that man who drives you crazy could still be the one for you. “El Dorado” is yet another faster song, all about driving to the next show, and trying to find the town it’s in. SHe’s tired, they’re running out of gas, and yet she keeps going. I take this as sort of a sequel to “Girl Goin’ Nowhere”, since she’s headed toward her dreams. I like the instrumentation of the song, but the repeated line of “can’t stop now” does quickly get old. Still, it’s not an awful song, and it makes for good listening.

Finally, we come to the last two songs. “Tired of Being Happy” is a slower, more blues-infused track. The woman in the song is telling her ex that if he gets tired of being happy and in love, he could give her a call. She doesn’t want to ruin what he has, but she’s there, just in case he ever wants to take her up on the offer. “Home Sweet Highway” is another road song, all about how the highway is her home. This song doesn’t stick out much for me either, maybe because it’s slower. Still, I like how she keeps bringing things back to the road.

Overall, I think this is a well-done album. It’s one of the best mainstream country albums I’ve heard in a while, probably since Maddie and Tae’s album. Ashley’s voice is versatile, going from vulnerable in songs like “Andy”, to more confident in “Radioland”, and “El Dorado”. I think if you want to find a new artist who’s in the mainstream scene, you should definitely check out this album.

Buy the Album
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9s830jmiqnw

The “Real Country” debate and Other Musings: a Collaboration with the Musical divide

So I was having a discussion on Twitter today with Zack of The Musical Divide about Kacey Musgraves’ new album and all the mixed reactions to it. It seems to be a completely polarizing release, and that’s sparked the age-old debate about “real country,” in this case whether or not Musgraves is tired of the genre. We agreed that she’s not, and although not traditional, Golden Hour is still a country record, and that people dismissing it immediately for not being country enough aren’t taking the time to really form their own opinions about the music. We decided that we both really had a lot to say about this, so we had a proper discussion and made one of our Twitter musings into a worthwhile, enlightening conversation. You can read that below.

Zack: I’ll pose a question to start this off – what to you defines “country music?”

Megan: I define it by honesty in storytelling, lyrics about real life and real people. I do look for signature sounds like fiddle and pedal steel, but those are secondary for me. Still, if I hear instruments like that, I consider them country elements of a song.

Z: I always thought it was something like that too, but these days, I don’t know. Do you think saying that something isn’t “country” is a worthy critique in and of itself?

M: I think it’s a worthy critique when stuff is sent to country radio for sure. Like, Zac Brown Band’s “Beautiful Drug” can be criticized for not being country because he admitted to it being an EDM song and then sent it to country radio. But I also think it’s becoming a blanket criticism for stuff we don’t like. I think you and I can agree Golden Hour has lots of country to it, but a lot of people are just dismissing it out of hand. It’s fine not to like it, and it’s obviously not traditional, but it’s becoming a really lame excuse to not like something.

Z: I agree. I think it’s a matter of people not really owning up to a full opinion. Saying it’s not country is an easy cop-out, and if that’s why you don’t like it, fine, but tell me how that makes it “bad.” Is the lyricism weak? Are the vocals not there? Albums like Musgraves’ always present the ugliness of this debate, when in reality, Musgraves meant to unite rather than divide.

The thing is with this conversation, there’s material that seems like it’s pretty obvious as to what genre it belongs under such as Sam Hunt or Walker Hayes’ material. However, I think we’re starting to see that card played out *too* much, to the point where the only stuff that can only be counted as “Country” is material that rips directly from the past.

Do you think Country music is restrictive in that regard? Or no?

M: You’re right, I think people have gotten to where they hear something like Golden Hour, and they don’t like it, which is fine. It’s halfway there, forming your own opinion about something. But it’s easy for them to say it’s not country enough instead of really thinking about the music. One comparison I keep coming back to is Starfire by Caitlyn Smith. I mean, would you say that’s country? A lot of these same people love that record, which is again fine, but they call it country pop, and for me, it’s way less country than Golden Hour. I remember even telling you that when it came out, that I felt like it was almost out of my lane completely because it was so pop. To answer your other question, I don’t think country is a restrictive genre–look at Marty Stuart’s Way Out West, for example–but I think purists are making it restrictive and putting unnecessary limits on it. I’d be curious as to your take on that as well since you try to avoid the “real country” argument and embrace a lot of genre-bending stuff.

Z: Would I say Caitlyn Smith’s latest album, Starfire is Country? That’s the million dollar question. Or rather, just one of them. I don’t know the answer to that. I think there’s a way for the songs or albums to not necessarily fit the sounds of the genre and yet still fit within somehow. For example, “This Town Is Killin’ Me” is about her struggles in Nashville, and some of those songs like “East Side Restaurant” and “House Of Cards” are dripping with real, honest emotion.

However, I think comparing which album is “more country” is frankly, pretty stupid. Let’s instead argue which one is better, because thankfully that line were trying to draw with genre can’t possibly be drawn with an opinion. We can only offer a perspective and see what the other side thinks (and vice versa).

It’s hard to answer your second question. Do I think it’s true? Yes, but all I really have to go on are random Internet comments I see on social media or other blogs’ comments sections. I think something like Way Out West is a type of rare album, but it’s also hard to say in that instance whether Stuart is getting a pass for actually making genre-bending music or because he’s simply a legend we respect and wouldn’t dare touch.

It’s amazing though, Country oriented sites will gladly talk about acts like Blackberry Smoke or Whiskey Myers, and on the other end of the spectrum, someone more Pop leaning such as Glen Campbell is viewed as aces with the crowd.

And of course, there’s a huge difference between Pop-Country like Glen Campbell and Pop-Country like Walker Hayes, but who am I to say? That would only be my opinion and nothing more. I have no evidence because that line is so murky.

M: I can’t believe you’ve just written a sentence containing Glen Campbell and Walker Hayes…shouldn’t there be some sort of law against this? You raise a good point, though, that country-oriented sites/blogs/whatever seem to be more accepting of rock influences than of pop ones. It kind of makes sense because rock is musically closer to country, but still, you can make a case that Blackberry Smoke and even Jason Isbell are less country sonically than some of the stuff on Golden Hour, so the disconnect with listeners is interesting. As for which is better, for me personally, I prefer Golden Hour to Starfire even with the killer songwriting on Starfire, and it’s precisely because as a listener, I like stuff like “Love is a Wild Thing,” where you hear modern production with pedal steel. But that’s just me, and it’s not a right or wrong opinion. Similarly, it’s not right or wrong to prefer Starfire. I just don’t think you can actually say you don’t like Golden Hour because it isn’t country and then call Starfire a country pop record because to me, it proves you don’t actually have a complete opinion about why you don’t like Golden Hour. That’s the most important thing about being a music listener, just forming your own opinion and having the intelligence to back it up. Like, I don’t care if you think Walker Hayes is God’s gift to country music if you can actually defend that viewpoint and make me think about why you feel that way.

Z: Those are all great points. The key is to simply become a better music listener at the end of the day. On that note, I don’t have criticism for just traditionalists. It makes me mad to see supporters of the extreme kind of Country (Hayes, Hunt…etc) completely write off anyone who doesn’t like them as someone who can’t “get with the times.” It’s in these moments where I’d like to interject how neither artist (and certain artists beyond) fits in the genre, and yet if I’m going to hold tight to my other perspective, it’s a tricky stance to take. Still, I like when Country music drives itself forward to form something new that pulls from the past and blends it with the new. Anyone who dislikes the aforementioned artists though is just seen as someone who can’t handle Country music evolving, and the truth is, I think it’s stuck in a rut spinning its wheels because of it.

You hear all the time now how artists want to expand their sound, and sometimes I can’t blame them. I mean, Eric Church still receives comment that he’s a “Pop” star in 2018. Rock? Yeah, definitely. Not Country? I don’t fully agree but I get where you’re coming from? But Pop?!? To artists I think it just signals that certain fans have a preferred box they want those artists to be in, and the artists aren’t allowed to do anything except what they want.

That’s the tricky part about the business. We’re the customers, and the artists are the “products.” If I don’t like my iPhone5, Apple makes something better. Artists are real human beings though that have their own visions.

In the case of Kacey Musgraves, when she announced that her new album wouldn’t be as “Country” as her previous ones, while the frustration is understandable, a proper response is “alright, that disappoints me” rather than say, “he or she can’t do that!” At the end of the day, we’re all going to feel what we feel about the music, but there’s a difference between not being a fan of the artist’s choice and not being a fan who want said artist to be happy.

M: Yeah, exactly, your last point makes me go back to Zac Brown for a second. As a fan, I was ecstatic that he was going back to the band’s original sound with Welcome Home. But his heart wasn’t in it, and you can hear that all over it. It makes it the ZBB album I listen to the least. I’m not saying I’d be a fan of his EDM stuff, but if he wants to do that, then let him be happy. I heard more of his passion on Sir Rosevelt as far as that goes. Anyway, I agree, I have a definite problem with the newer artists who assume we all want everything to sound like Hank and Waylon just because we don’t like them. And I get where you’re coming from about it being a difficult line to walk, but actually I think you can pretty easily make the case some of those artists don’t belong in the genre at all. Obviously they don’t sound country, but it’s more than that. Their lyrics aren’t real or honest either, you can’t argue that anything Walker Hayes has ever done has the depth of emotion that you just argued for with Caitlyn Smith. I think the problem with those artists is they’re so obviously just trying to cash in with country. They’re not real, they’re not honest, they’re not anything that relates to what I said when I defined country music. Take out all the accepted country sounds as well, and it’s like adding insult to injury.

Z: Exactly. Personally I liked Welcome Home more than the Sir Rosevelt project, but if I had to pick which avenue Brown should go down, I’d definitely say EDM. Just stop trying to call it Country when you blatantly said it wouldn’t be that. That’s an exception to the rule for me, mostly because the artist themselves have admitted what genre it is.

Walker Hayes is an interesting predicament, because I think people would counter your point with a song like “Craig”, and to be fair, the message is strong, but it’s presented in a childish fashion, whereas Country is more of a mature genre.

Cashing in is definitely a popular sentiment. I mean, go back and listen to Hayes’ songs “Pants” or “Why Wait For Summer”; they easily fit the mold of early 2010’s Country. His new stuff sounds like a Macklemore meets Sam Hunt knockoff, and at that point it’s hard to tell what his true intentions are.

M: Yeah, I’ll give you that, “Craig” might be the exception. Still, his older stuff is completely different to his new album as you pointed out. He’s clearly adapted himself to whatever he thinks will sell. And as we’ve been discussing, expanding yourself as an artist is fine, and you should. But with Walker, you honestly can’t even tell they’re the same person. That’s not artistic growth at that point, it’s just trend-chasing.

Z: Well if nothing else, at least we’ve established that – the difference between art and commercial fluff. Still, I’m curious. Who would you say really is “traditional country” sounding today?

M: Truly traditional country? Jason Eady. Ags Connolly. Vivian Leva also just released a really traditional album. Joshua Hedley might be about to do so as well, but we’ll have to wait for the whole album. Zephaniah OHora, although to be really technical and nerdy, he would be countrypolitan. Courtney Patton, I almost forgot to mention her, and she’s released one of my favorite albums this year. I’m sure I’m leaving out some really obvious names. But with all the subgenres country is splitting into, there really aren’t that many “traditional-sounding” ones left. Who would you consider really traditional? I know I have to be leaving obvious people out.

Z: To use this answer again – I’d have no idea. Unfortunately I think you could make arguments for all of them being more “folk” singers than anything else. I consider those first three artists as Country artists who are making really great modern Country, but with Hedley and O’Hora, it’s fine and all, but notice how it’s a carbon copy of music of the past. That’s not bad on principle – O’Hora made one of my favorite songs last year, and I’m looking forward to Hedley’s album, but it goes back to that point of many artists not being accepted as “real” country until they literally pull from that well that artists of the past did.

M: Yes, I agree. And carbon copies of the past won’t ultimately move the genre forward. There is a lot of great modern country, from Red Dirt to Americana to pop country, but the ones I mentioned are the most “traditional” ones I can think of. I think you can make a folk argument for some of Connolly’s music and Leva’s too, but Jason Eady I’d disagree, that’s straight-up, three-chord country. Still, if we have only one or only a handful of true traditionalist artists, it’s further proof that we have to embrace the forward-thinking stuff because ultimately, we want country music, or I call it our beloved country music a lot on CE, to survive. And putting limitations on it will kill it as quickly as letting in the Sam Hunts of the world.

I think to that end, it’s important for older listeners and fans of that traditional style to introduce their children to good modern country. For example, maybe you don’t like Maddie & Tae, but your granddaughter might, so you come together over that, and she gets that passion for country music. That’s far better than wishing it would all revert back to Haggard and Jones and leaving her to listen to Hunt and Hayes. It might not always be your type of country, but it’s important for traditionalists to open themselves up to the good modern country and pass it down so that country music lives on.

Z: Right, I’m not saying it would be my argument, but I could totally see someone coming up with some asinine excuse for why Eady isn’t “real” Country. I don’t know, that’s just the vibe I get, but maybe I’m reading too many Internet comments! I think you said it all with your last comment, Megan. I’m not sure what else to add, but I think this conversation has certainly been enlightening. It’s a tough question to really answer, and ultimately I’m not sure I’ll ever get it, but I think thankfully there’s an artist for everyone in the Country genre right now, so instead of arguing about what they are, let’s have discussions on their music. Those seem more fun, even though I did have fun with this particular conversation.

M: I had a lot of fun also, and I think that you said it perfectly when you said there’s someone in the genre for everyone. Today, we got releases from Lindi Ortega, Kacey Musgraves, Red Shahan, and Ashley McBryde, all carrying the torch for country music, all doing it completely differently, and, in my opinion, all releasing really kickass albums. So instead of arguing over which of them has more country cred, let’s go listen to all that good music. Thanks for the discussion, I always love exploring stuff like this.

Album Review: Kacey Musgraves–Golden Hour

Rating: 8.5/10

If there was one common criticism following Kacey Musgraves around after her first two excellent records, it was that she talked too much about other people, focusing her sharp wit and careful turns of phrase outward while not really looking within herself. One mark of a great artist is the ability to be vulnerable, to reach inside yourself and reveal a part of your soul, giving yourself up to scrutiny and judgment. Except for brief glimpses, Kacey Musgraves hadn’t given us that. We hadn’t seen enough of her humanity, and that became doubly apparent when she used so much of her songwriting talent for social commentary and pointed statements toward others. It was beginning to feel like Kacey could remove the specks from her listener’s eyes without examining the logs in her own, and while her first two albums were both outstanding, she needed to change. She needed to be more personal, to give us more of herself on her third record, to expand her horizons before she was put in a box and her witty lyrics started to feel stale.

Like any true artist, Musgraves recognized this. She knew she needed a change, and she delivered us a breath of fresh air with the simultaneous release of “Butterflies” and “Space Cowboy.” Both were personal songs for Kacey, and while they weren’t as strong lyrically as some of her previous work, it could be excused. If these were to reflect the overall quality of the songwriting on this effort, she’d be selling herself short. However, if these were meant to showcase a lighter, more tender side of Kacey and would be backed up by more substance on the album, they were a breath of fresh air and actually a welcome change for her.

The problem, at least for some, was that in embracing a different side of her personality and taking a different lyrical approach, Kacey also changed direction sonically. These two could still be considered country pop, though, and although not as traditional as anything she’d previously recorded, they still sounded like they belonged in the genre itself. Then came the disco song “High Horse,”–and by the way, I don’t care if you love it or hate it, but if you try to sell me on the fact this song is “disco country” somehow, you’re wrong–a polarizing little number that had fans completely divided. Some were worried for the direction of the album. Others praised her for the lively, engaging track. Personally, I had no problem with Musgraves giving us a disco song, but I didn’t care for the song itself, especially because it seemed to echo those familiar tropes about not judging others that characterized her earlier albums.

Now we have the whole album before us, and those same fans that wanted another traditional record from her are going to be disappointed. It’s definitely an experimental, forward-thinking project, and for the most part, the experiment really works.

The first half of this is a country pop album, blending pedal steel and synthesizers, focusing more on the mood of the record and Kacey Musgraves’ vocal delivery than on her songwriting talent. That said, “Butterflies” and “Space Cowboy” do prove to be the lightest songs lyrically on this first half, thereby making them better in the context of the album. We have the introspective, autobiographical opener “Slow Burn” starting us off with the line, “I was born in a hurry, always late, haven’t been early since ’88” to let us know right out of the gate that this album is going to be different, that she’s going to look within and reveal a part of herself to us. This song sets the tone for the whole record, creating this ethereal, dreamlike quality that remains throughout the album. This is probably best exemplified in “Oh, What a World,” a beautifully simple look at all the wonderful blessings and mysteries in this life and what it will mean to leave it all in the end. The mood here adds to the lyrics in the best way; these are traditionally country themes, but with this spacey production, you can imagine yourself staring up at the stars just as enamored by God’s creation as Kacey seems to be. It’s a great example of taking traditional lyrics and themes and pairing them with modern production to make a respectful and forward-thinking statement; in other words, it’s country evolving correctly. And then there’s “Love is a Wild Thing,” one of the standouts here and probably the most country with its acoustic guitars and pedal steel elements prominently in the mix. The melody here is beautiful, and actually, that’s true for much of this record. I’m convinced after several days with this album that Kacey Musgraves is one of the best melodic composers making music currently.

With “Happy & Sad,” the eighth track of thirteen, we come to a transition, and the album becomes basically straight pop. It’s a relatively smooth change because we’ve been easing into this throughout the record; it’s better than if she had opened the album this way. The atmospheric, spacey production continues throughout most of the back half as well, serving to unite this riskier part of the experiment with the earlier tracks. The songwriting does fall off a little here which in turn makes the change in her sound more noticeable. The front half is nearly flawless in terms of songwriting, so you quickly forgive any misgivings you might have had about the sound, but here, on some of the weaker tracks, those questions start to come back. It does close on a high note, however, with the title track and “Rainbow.” The former is just outstanding melodically, perhaps a more mature or introspective version of “Butterflies,” and the latter closes the record with a heartwarming piano ballad encouraging us all to see the rainbow in the midst of life’s storms. This is certainly the weaker half, but mostly, the experiment still works.

There are three distinct places on this album where it doesn’t work. “Mother” is admittedly and predictably gorgeous melodically, but it sounds so unfinished. And why shouldn’t it, when it’s less than a minute and a half long? Kacey’s been all but promoting the use of LSD with this song as she talks about writing it while on LSD and having an overwhelming longing to see her mother, regretting that they live so far apart. But I can’t help thinking that’s why she included it here, just to create an interesting talking point–because if she’d finished this, it would have become a good song, but it’s a song fragment and just interrupts the flow of everything and ruins that spacey vibe so crucial to this record. “Velvet Elvis” is just boring and unnecessary filler and could have been left off a 13-track project without consequence. And “High Horse?” Well, it’s both better and worse in album context. It’s better because among these songs, it doesn’t stick out the way it would have on an album like Pageant Material. It makes more sense sonically. However, “Wonder Woman” would have flowed effortlessly into “Golden Hour,” from the mood to the tempo on down to the key change. Instead, “High Horse” is stuck awkwardly in the middle, and in that sense, it sticks out like a sore thumb and is almost obnoxious. Ironically, I have less of a problem with the song itself now after spending some time with it, but it doesn’t fit the album at all and would have worked better as a standalone single. And once again, it goes back to the themes of her earlier albums lyrically, so it doesn’t fit with the personal nature of this project.

So yeah, this is certainly a different Kacey Musgraves than anything we’ve seen so far. Her sound has changed considerably, and she’s focusing more on melodies and vocal performances than on songwriting. Incidentally, Kacey Musgraves the vocalist has been highly underestimated, and in that sense, this is her best album without question. As far as the sonic changes, that’s going to be a matter of personal preference, but you can’t say that most of this record doesn’t work. I can’t argue with fans who will miss the traditional sound of Kacey’s previous albums, but those who thought that the change in sound would also reflect a change in substance and quality need not have worried. At this point, I don’t know if it’s better or worse than her earlier work, but if anything, it’s proven she can make a thoughtful, substantive country pop record as well as she can make a good traditional one. It shows her versatility and her talent as an artist. It shows her experiencing personal growth as a songwriter, willing to reach within for her reflections instead of focusing her attention outward. Maybe not what we were expecting, but Golden Hour is a great record.

Buy the Album

Album Review: Trixie Mattel–One Stone

Rating: 7.5/10

Rich O’Toole said yesterday (3/28) on Twitter that “the problem with country music right now is that people are listening with their eyes.” This is a problem with all of music and indeed our culture in general right now. He was probably framing the comment around mainstream listeners who aren’t paying attention to the music but rather the image of the artist, and yet this also perfectly illustrates the fact that you can’t, and shouldn’t, judge a book by its cover. It’s for that reason which I chose not to include cover art in this piece, just like with Midland. As with Midland, I know you’ve all seen–or at least have the easy ability of Googling–this album, and indeed the link at the bottom to purchase it will show you the cover in short order. It’s not that I think the cover, which will quickly explain that Trixie Mattel is the drag persona of Brian Firkus, reflects anything that Trixie should tone down; on the contrary, I saw some comments on SCM advising she remove the makeup in order to decrease the image marketing and possible shock value and perhaps reach more listeners, and to that, I would disagree. Rather, my point with this is symbolic and meant to further the most important lesson taught by this album and artist: that music, and especially country music, is meant for all, can break down all barriers and prejudices, and should be listened to without prejudgments based on well, anything.

So we put this record on without considering anything else, and we get a truly cool album. Mostly, it’s traditional, featuring lively fiddles, acoustic guitars, and some occasional horns to add some flavor. “Break Your Heart” adds some hand claps and could be considered the most modern, but that’s not really an issue except that it also suffers lyrically, but we’re getting ahead of ourselves. Even though it’s a traditional record, it’s fresh and charming, with the majority of the songs being fun, upbeat numbers. I wish most of Americana could take a lesson from this. And then, just when you think it’s all sort of light and breezy and doesn’t take itself too seriously, “Red Side of the Moon” arrives to toss that notion effectively out the window and show you that Trixie Mattel is really serious about this and can deliver a deeper, more emotional song as well.

And what an interesting way Trixie has with the English language, adding almost theatrical turns of phrase at times to create really clever bits of songwriting. Yes, an upbeat, vibrant record can also contain thoughtful songwriting…take a moment to digest this, all you artists that don’t inject life into your albums or somehow view fun as the opposite of substantive. With lines like “an hour hand moves faster with a scotch” in “Soldier” and “tell me little dear, if you only live here, did you really ever live at all?” in “Little Sister,” there are often little thought-provoking nuggets of songwriting that belie the cheerfulness of the songs. And then there’s the clever homage to songs like “Stand by Your Man,” “Ring of fire,” and “Neon Moon” in the track “The Well” which serves both to continue to establish Trixie as a lyricist and also to show that she has a knowledge and respect for the history of country music. That last is something many mainstream stars lack on an embarrassing level, or else choose to ignore, so seeing it here is encouraging.

It’s in light of this lyrical genius that “Break Your Heart” feels disappointing lyrically, because with a line like “I never meant to break your heart, but I’d do it again,” you’re a little perplexed. So Trixie didn’t mean to break this person’s heart, but given the chance, she’d do it all over? It’s confusing, and combined with the claps, it makes this song easily the weakest.

But overall, this is a really cool, fun little record. And more than that, it happily defies stereotypes in the best possible way: just by being itself and proving prejudice wrong. Things like this make more of a statement than any protest or advocacy because they break down barriers and remove ignorance. This music doesn’t preach, it just exists, and that’s really the best way to reach people. Instead of alienating an audience, this can draw listeners together in that way only music can. And as far as our beloved country music, with Trixie’s presence, it’s being carried to people who may never otherwise have heard it at all. If this record is awakening the joy in anyone for country music that I possess, I welcome it, for that love and passion is unlike anything I have experienced. And it’s that same love and passion which lives inside Trixie Mattel and comes pouring out on this record, and which ultimately defies everything else.

Buy the Album

The Most Destructive Criticism is Indifference