Sophomore album from alt-country act is an affectionate but irreverent take on 90s radio country to great effect and real emotional depth.
Let’s deal with the elephant in the room first: there are many “humorous” records out there that maybe hit their mark once, eliciting a wry chuckle but not achieving the target of repeat plays. It is a significant challenge to produce songs that accurately skewer a given genre and also stand as songs in their own right. This album markets itself on being a love letter to the “hat” acts of the 90s, Garth, George, and Alan, through an alt-country lens. So does it work, will you come back to this album for repeat listens? Fundamentally, is it worth your time and investment?
Yes on all counts, indeed an emphatic yes and maybe a yee-haw for those inclined. Singer-songwriter Jerid James Morris, working with musicians from his day job in The Texases and Sub Pop band Rose Windows, has crafted a stunning album of alt-country gems that certainly fits the brief. And for anyone with lingering doubts, amid songs that lyrically cover the usual country tropes of bars, boozing, trucks, and broken relationships are three poignant songs of rare beauty and emotion.
The album sets its stall out with the first three tracks. Howdy Arabia opens up, catching the guitar-driven sound of the Drive By Truckers, with added fiddle and spare, poetic lyrics that could have come from the pen of Mike Cooley. The band is tight, and the vocals of Morris are smooth, with an agreeable rasp. Might As Well Get Drunk follows with a gently punning title where the protagonist is reflecting on helping the local bars, as they have gone to a lot of trouble to set up the bar and the booze, and it might as well get drunk. It turns out that, far from an altruistic outlook, he is lamenting his girl leaving him after one too many infidelities and taking the view that he might as well get drunk. It starts with a picked acoustic guitar before building to a full-band song, with fiddle, pedal steel, and electric guitars to the fore. All reminiscent of Jason Isbell in all the best ways.
This leads into That’s No Way To Act. Here, the protagonist is being critical of what another man is wearing. His girlfriend challenges him: “She said, all you ever are is critical// She knows that’s a lie, I’m sometimes cynical”. Unfortunately, he finds her beautiful when she is angry, so he keeps pressing the point until she walks off,
“And that was all she wrote// Well that and ‘Asshole’ with her key on my Rodeo// I know she ain’t coming back anymore// Anyway honey, that’s no way to act”.
The scene is related over a Gin Blossoms/Fastball-style drum-led, guitar-based jangle with vocal harmonies. The album has two well-chosen cover versions. The first, Iron and Wine and Calexico’s 16, Maybe Less, is a straight reading of a poignant song of love, time, and remembrance. The vocals on the first verse are by Jordan Bryant, giving the lyrics an interesting female perspective. The chorus is led by her, with Morris singing harmony. This is then flipped for the second verse and chorus to great effect, their voices meshing beautifully. The second cover is 33 by the Smashing Pumpkins. Originally written by Billy Corgan as a country-style number, rendered in an icy and remote indie style by them. Here it is no less indie but with a banjo-led country backing and ending with a mariachi section led by the fiddle. Well chosen and well presented, both covers are stunning.
Sandwiched between them is Ladies Darts Night, a lyrically and relentlessly downbeat story song telling of considering your life choices in a grim and seedy bar at the end of the evening. Darkly funny, it is related as almost a talking blues after a pedal steel lead-in.
The last track, Long Oval, shows that Morris can also write and arrange his own songs of rare beauty and emotional heart. Based on a dialogue between a Father and a Son who is leaving home, the title refers to a head shape for hat fitting and is perhaps a reference back to the theme of “Hat” acts. However, the song has a melancholy soul as the Father realises that this is forever, and the last piece of wisdom he gives his son turns the hat reference into a metaphor,
“It’s just one long oval, womb to gravestone//You ain’t going anywhere// But it keeps on comin’, so you keep on runnin’// You end up right where you began.”
Musically, the song builds, the arrangement supporting the emotional heft of the lyrics, before the outro sees a stunning guitar solo. This is a hugely enjoyable, and yes, wryly amusing, album and also enormously emotionally satisfying. For those who know their 90s hat acts, there may be sly lyrical and musical references aplenty; for those who are less familiar, the album still satisfies as a top-notch collection of alt-country tunes played and sung with conviction.
