With only a minor clerical error, we’ve successfully made it to the middle of the year. Considering how it started and how it’s going, that is saying something. This week, we got a bunch of great albums from some bigger names in the underground or underappreciated country space.
Joshua Ray Walker’s Tropicana spans a range of styles with a clean nod to the 90s. This is a departure for Walker. A much more positive, dare I say happier, album which fits considering he’s on the other side of a particularly gnarly bout of cancer and bad news. I’m excited to see him live this evening — even if I hope he does play some of his more horribly depressing hits from earlier albums.
Kelsey Waldon’s latest effort, Every Ghost, echoes the best of White Noise/White Lines but with a confident maturity that can only come after nearly a decade in the industry (crazy to think that 2014 was 11 years ago). The songs flow beautifully, highlighting her unique vocal delivery and intricate songwriting that first brought her to Oh Boy Records.
Unsurprisingly, Lukas Nelson delivers a strong collection of songs that comes together under the guidance of Shooter Jennings to explore an American story complicated by family, society and life. American Romance is a wonderful, complex and satisfying album of expertly delivered Lukas Nelson music. While the “Friend in the End” featuring Sierra Ferrell and Disappearing Light with Stephen Wilson Jr. are standout songs, the title track gets me every time.
And there are two singles I’d love you to play a bunch because I feel like Emily Love and Devyn Brinsfield should be uttered in the same breath as the folks who dropped these albums.
“On Like Neon” is a perfect follow-up to Love’s first single, “Dance a Little Closer.” The algorithm and the evils of the streaming services aside, but without the targeted suggestion of her first song landing on my list, I never would have heard it. Now, I’m appealing to you, my faithful readers, to drive up Love’s streams and check out her other work, as it deserves a larger audience.
The same can be said about Devyn Brinsfield. I remember hearing him demoing this song at a small venue near my house. I was sure this was going to be a banger and told him that then — and I stand by it now. “Honkytonks & Barstools” joins the millions of songs that suggest dim light, cheap beer and country music will help a protagonist get over heartache, but this song does it better than almost any other song in this sad sack subgenre. Bringsfield’s neo-traditional Bakersfield Sound needs to be part of the conversation moving forward, and you need to check out this example of it now.
Thanks for sticking with me for half of a crazy year. Until next time, keep on listening to great country music.
