Terry Klein Shines Bright with Leave the Light On

The writers who get characters right tell the best stories. Stories are a series of events, yes, but ultimately their worth rests in the way the teller humanizes the pieces involved. 

In songwriting, “character” is a hummingbird shifting position in search of the fertile bud. When a songwriter finds the sweetest spot from which to draw nectar an album is poised to bloom.

Terry Klein’s Leave the Light On is a masterclass in characters. The Austin-based songwriter recently told The Marinade he hopes everyone has experienced heartbreak. It’s an important part of being alive. Not all of Klein’s characters get their hearts broken on record but there is no doubt each of them has been hurt and come out ready for the next one.

Take the protagonist of “Blue Hill Bay.” Terry Klein lets us into the world of a man who lives an ostensibly ordinary life. He drinks at the same bar. He gets harassed by his paramour’s ex. He is a regular guy with regular worries and concerns, and Klein makes his life sound romantic. 

This is the power of Leave the Light On. Terry Klein writes characters and leaves judgment to the listener. Perhaps because of his own sense of empathy, or dedication to the craft, or all of the above, Klein’s everyman is your best friend, and the cousin you tolerate, and the step dad you don’t know how to approach. 

You find yourself rooting for all of them because he writes with a sense of give a damn. These characters, carried along by charming melodies, seep into the listener’s heart. There is a reason why Klein has drawn praise from Mary Gauthier and Rodney Crowell. He has a way of telling the stories of the people we know and have loved and hated, cussed and hugged.

Leave the Light On drops everywhere this November. 

THE MARINADE WITH JASON EARLE'S "BEST" (READ: FAVORITE) ALBUMS OF 2021 | PART II

Every December I try to think of some clever way to recap the year’s musical releases, but nothing ever seems right. We have access to so much great music in today’s world; and, people all over the world are making incredible pieces of art.

It is tough to decide which albums I want to highlight. I spend a lot of time listening to records. The majority of that time is allocated to doing research for The Marinade, so any year-end or favorites list is naturally going to include Marinade guests or folks who are Marinade adjacent.

I don’t consider myself much of a critic, so when I say “best” albums I mean my favorites. These are the albums that have been on heavy rotation at my house, in the car, and during my workouts. These are the works that captured my attention for extended stretches of time. They are the albums that came to mind when I thought about doing a “best of” piece.

This is Part II of two “Best of” recaps. You can read Part I here. The records are presented here without regard for any ranking. If you would like to hear more about why I included these albums, and how I would rank them, head over to patreon.com/marinadepodcast and subscribe for the price of a latte or a nice IPA.

Sturgill Simpson The Ballad of Dood and Juanita

Willie Nelson’s Redheaded Stranger changed my expectations for albums. My father is not a musician - and only a casual music fan for the most part - but when he is passionate about something he becomes an evangelist. He turned me on to Tom T. Hall and Waylon Jennings. He instilled a love of bluegrass. 

When I started to get passionate about albums, I asked him what the best record of all time was in his opinion. He said something that sounds like what I would now tell a young person. That’s an impossible question, but you can’t go wrong with Redheaded Stranger.

Sturgill came off of two bluegrass re-imaginings of his incredible catalog with a lot of critical acclaim and the support of his fervent fan base. Still, I did not give Cuttin’ Grass Vol. 1 and 2  more than one spin. Not because they were not good. They were very good. I just have come to expect so much from Sturgill. Sound and Fury was a masterpiece. As was A Sailor’s Guide to Earth and Metamodern Sounds in Country Music. Hell, the whole damn arsenal is brilliant. 

If he wanted to put out a bluegrass record, I would like some new Sturgill tunes. That is probably not fair. It is a criticism based on my own expectations and not some objective commentary. 

No matter. All is forgotten with The Ballad of Dood and Juanita. Parents will be answering the question about great records with most of Sturgill’s catalog and this record is a perfect example of why.

The Roseline Constancy

This record came into my life because I lost my keys and got stuck in the garage. Craig of All Knowing McGill suggested I listen to The Roseline to pass the time and I got hooked from the first spin. Click here to read my Review Under Two of the record.

Nathan Bell Red, White, and American Blues (It Can Happen Here)

Nathan Bell is a thoughtful, smart dude. This record says so much of what I am feeling about the world today in a way I could never. Red, White, and American Blues (It Can Happen Here) got the Review Under Two treatment right about the time it was released. Check that out here. Also check out our conversation with Nathan here.

Waltzer Time Traveler

Time Traveler is a breath of fresh air and Waltzer is too cool. Waltzer writes tunes that are catchy and reflective, kooky and honest. This album was a constant companion in 2021 because of its unwillingness to be what anyone expects. It is an expression of Sophie Sputnik embracing who she is as an artist and a person.

Sophie sat down for an episode of The Marinade around the record’s release. We had so much damn fun and she gave the listeners a window into what makes her songwriting and playing so special.

Andrew Bryant A Meaningful Connection

Andrew Bryant found meaning and connection in an unconventional way during 2020. He stopped drinking, moved houses, and created the most impressive record of his exceptional career. A Meaningful Connection bridges the gap between the literal struggles of 2020 and the metaphors that carried Bryant into the next phase of his life. 

In July of 2020, Bryant turned forty and stopped drinking. Those two things alone would be a lot to bear for most of us, but Bryant was enduring more. His father-in-law was sick. He was moving his family. He had just released a record at a time when no one could leave their house and the leader of the nation was telling people to ignore the facts about a lethal once-in-a-generation pandemic.

For this record, he set out to write about things other than himself. The reality is, Bryant is interesting. His life is interesting and he is self-reflective about that life. In discussing A Meaningful Connection’s stunning cover art on The Marinade with Jason Earle, Bryant said he always found it strange that windows both reflect and allow you to see through them.

The picture is of a shirtless Bryant sitting up in bed. His wife lays next to him looking up as the artist holds his phone and looks into the camera. The scene is tender and vulnerable, honest and reflective. A mirror held up to a collective and personal transition into something better. A Meaningful Connection achieves what its title promises.

The Marinade with Jason Earle's "Best" (read: favorite) Albums of 2021 | Part I

Every December I try to think of some clever way to recap the year’s musical releases, but nothing ever seems right. We have access to so much great music in today’s world; and, people all over the world are making incredible pieces of art.

It is tough to decide which albums I want to highlight. I spend a lot of time listening to records. The majority of that time is allocated to doing research for The Marinade, so any year-end or favorites list is naturally going to include Marinade guests or folks who are Marinade adjacent.

I don’t consider myself much of a critic, so when I say “best” albums I mean my favorites. These are the albums that have been on heavy rotation at my house, in the car, and during my workouts. These are the works that captured my attention for extended stretches of time. They are the albums that came to mind when I thought about doing a “best of” piece.

This is Part I of two “Best of” recaps. The records are presented here without regard for any ranking. If you would like to hear more about why I included these albums, and how I would rank them, head over to patreon.com/marinadepodcast and subscribe for the price of a latte or a nice IPA.

Allison Russell Outside Child

Atop almost everyone’s best of list, this masterpiece is the kind of record we will be talking about in twenty, thirty, forty years. Reissues will shoot it back up the charts and into a new generation’s consciousness. 

Look for my conversation with Allison to hit your podcast feeds in mid-January. 

In the meantime, check out this clip from the end of our interview where we captured the moment Allison learned of her three well-deserved Grammy nominations.

Hayes Carll You Get It All

Hayes is one of the best to ever do the singer-songwriter thing. Todd Snider told me earlier this year that everybody knew Hayes was special when he arrived in Nashville as a twenty-something kid.

Now a seasoned veteran, Carll gets better with every album. Carll is a genius who comes across as an everyman, which itself is a fit of brilliance.

The album leads off with “Nice Things,” which sounds like it could be a hit on country radio in 1996. But, its subject matter would keep the song blacklisted from the mainstream from then to now.  

The album goes on to examine forever love, lost love, alzheimers, and much more. You Get It All was on heavy rotation at Marinade studios this year.

Tre Burt You, Yeah, You

Burt’s sophomore effort showcases the imagery and world-building that made his debut such a darling of critics. On the standout track By the Jasmine, he begins with the line “Dante woke up, he didn’t mean to/he could have used a little more time in his dreams.” The song goes on to tell the all-too-familiar tale of a black man out minding his own business who falls victim to the violence of systemic and implicit racism. 

In an album full of outstanding lines, the one that opens and closes the song is perhaps the most powerful. Is Dante awakening to a realization of the challenges a black man faces in America, or literally awakening and going on a walk? Perhaps it’s both. 

Most of the songs on You, Yeah, You come in at around three minutes. Using an economy of words, Burt is establishing himself in a short amount of time.  

Todd Snider First Agnostic Church of Hope and Wonder

There is no one like Todd Snider. Part songwriter, part folk hero, part comedian- the man is larger than life. First Agnostic Church of Hope and Wonder is a sonic detour from Snider’s vast body of work. He took some risks that result in his best work to date. 

Present are the normal Snider musings on life and subtle political statements, but this is a record dependent on the beat rather than Todd’s observational poetry. From the first beat of “Turn Me Loose (I’ll Never Be the Same)” Snider takes the listener through ups and downs- paying tribute to dead friends, dwelling on the “Great Pacific Garbage Patch,” and playfully stepping down from his post as pastor of the First Agnostic Church of Hope and Wonder. It’s a hell of a tour of existence that only Todd could lead.

Review Under Two: Constancy by The Roseline

Review Under Two is a segment of The Marinade with Jason Earle podcast where host Jason Earle reviews a work he finds inspiring in under two minutes.

Our Review Under Two for Episode 100 with singer-songwriter Ryan Anderson focuses on the excellent new record Constancy by The Roseline.

The Roseline’s Constancy is a slice of pumpkin pie as imagined by a cutting edge chef. Reminiscent of bands like Whiskeytown and The Flying Burrito Brothers but insistent on tackling familiar themes and exploring comfortable sounds from an original perspective. 

Constancy is a hopeful record. Its characters do the messy work of looking back and examining the changes that need to be made. They acknowledge the messes in their lives and refuse to be defined by them. They decide to persevere instead. 

The backbone of the album is a tune called “Hunker Down.” It is a perfect encapsulation of the record’s prevailing theme. Constancy’s characters are in varying stages of getting to know themselves, with those in “Hunker Down” getting as close to self-actualization as one could dream. 

“All I wanna do is mostly nothing/Hunker down with you and try to tame/All my pecadillos and bad habits/Lay ‘em to waste”

“Hunker Down” is the excavation of life as a work in progress. It digs up the days of “flirting with service industry women” and “spending a shift’s worth of wages or more” in one night- those floundering moments of foolish youth that feel like they are necessary rites of passage. Maybe they are. Maybe the big takeaway should be that our bad habits and mistakes are necessary to develop constancy as a skill. 

The narrator in “Hunker Down,” has overcome the false urgency of a night wasted to experience the beauty in doing “mostly nothing” with people you love. 

We could all use a healthy dose of constancy, and The Roseline is an able ambassador for fortitude in the face of a precarious global landscape.

Review Under Two: Van Plating's The Way Down

Photo by Bethany Blanton

Review Under Two is a segment of The Marinade with Jason Earle podcast where host Jason Earle reviews a work he finds inspiring in under two minutes.

Our Review Under Two for Episode 98 with singer-songwriter Jeremie Albino focuses on Van Plating’s record The Way Down.

Van Plating’s forthcoming record The Way Down is a top self bourbon served neat on the back deck at twilight. Its complexities are immediately apparent but still best enjoyed with slow, rapt attention and an awareness of their context.

Plating spent her 20s playing and singing in indie rock bands. When her band Pemberley broke up she decided to take some time off from touring and making records. Then life happened and a little time off turned into years.

Once the need to create, the pang that pushes one to make beautiful things, enters the system it never leaves. Like a blood flute quietly doing its work, the need to make art will rear its head even decades after the bug first arrives. 

Photo by Bethany Blanton

Plating’s 2019 self-titled record was the first manifestation of the creative bug pushing itself from the cocoon. The Way Down (set for release on 11/19/21) is where the butterfly takes flight. A decade of reflection and growth baked into a collection of songs that celebrates the person Plating has become and is becoming. 

So often we think of creative change in terms of rebound or redemption. An artist who overcame addiction or was left for dead by the industry. In the case of Van Plating’s The Way Down, the change is not a return from oblivion. It is a leap back into a life that was always there percolating just below the surface of a “normal” existence.

The spiritual centerpoint of the record is the final track “Oxygen.” It is a song about the loss and recovery of love. Its imagery is stark and powerful, with the ocean setting the stage for an examination of what it means to lose something essential and recover it through perseverance. 

“Whose side are you on? My wings are made to soar.”

“Oxygen” is the second song on the record to mention wings- the appearance of which nods both to Van Plating’s complicated relationship with the church and her determination to rise above the noise. Who should make art? How and when should it be made? Throughout The Way Down Plating decides the answers to those questions on her terms. 

“Oxygen” is a fitting closer to the record. With little more than three chords and an acoustic guitar, Plating makes apparent that while she may have had a hard time breathing at points in her life, on this record the creative airways are clear.

Review Under Two: Tennessee Jet's South Dakota

Tennessee Jet spent a lot quarantine consuming records. While he enjoyed many of those releases, none of them were capturing what he was feeling in this moment. So he set out to make such an album. The result is a stripped down performance meant to capture the moment- imperfect but powerful and poignant. TJ, a guitar, and sometimes his harmonica are the instruments that lay his characters bare. 

South Dakota is a record that examines the present through the lens of its rich characters. Among his greatest strengths as a songwriter perhaps the strongest is the richness of his 

characters. In just a few short minutes he gives us enough backstory to understand why we should care, opens the door to empathy and understanding, then leaves us wanting to know more about these people and their stories.Characters and the layers of their lives are a bright spot of any TJ record. On South Dakota they are ambassadors of self-reflection and examination. 

The album ends with a song called “The Good.”

“I will kill your hatred/Your conscience I’ll make clear/my love has no conditions/I will see this mission through/Till like me you see the good in you”

On its face the song is about a loved one, a reminder that while flawed they are beautiful and full of potential. The subject seems to be going through a struggle of some sort. It is a gorgeous reminder to look for the good in all of us. But if you listen to Tennessee jet with any regularity, you know he is rarely content to leave things at surface level. These ears hear a call to action for Americans. An invitation to acknowledge the messes that have been made while also looking for - or reminding ourselves of - the good in US.

Review Under Two: Bendigo Fletcher's Fits of Laughter

Louisville, KY, is the Istanbul of The South. A town at the crossroads of East and (Mid)West. A place suited to spawn My Morning Jacket, Muhammad Ali, Hot Browns, and Louisville Sluggers. A city proud of its heroes and icons. 

Louisville is a Southern town and a Midwestern town. It is country and cosmopolitan. Edgy with an insistence on being refined. Above all, Louisville is one of the jewels of Kentucky- a state whose pride in its creative contributions to American culture could never be over-inflated.

While those icons endure, a new generation carries on the legacy while forging their own trace. In furtherance of that lofty tradition stands Bendigo Fletcher. A band whose music is the feeling of first acceptance after a tough breakup, of the promise that a jarring and unexpected decision brings. Bendigo Fletcher’s Fits of Laughter is an album drunk with familiar sounds melding in the mind to create the buzz of a Sunny Sunday afternoon in the fall. 

As they take the stage at Americanafest’s 2021 Commonwealth of Kentucky showcase a group of twenty-somethings makes their way to the front of the crowd. For the next all-too-short thirty minutes they are all of us who have fallen for this band. Ryan Anderson’s lyrics spanning from party anthem worthy to ruminations on existence and communing with nature. The sounds from Bendigo Fletcher’s tight group of players running through myriad soundscapes to create a sound that is both mature and fresh. 

Ken Coomer, who played drums with Uncle Tupelo and early Wilco, produced Fits of Laughter. His influence on the record is clear. Anderson described their partnership as natural. They began working together by talking about music they loved. To hear him talk about the process sounds like a joy. Joy is the emotion Bendigo Fletcher’s Fits of Laughter evokes. 

From the twenty-something folks dancing and singing every lyric right up front to the music journalist twice their age sporting a grin wide as the Cumberland Gap, Bendigo Fletcher’s record Fits of Laughter and their performance at Americanafest 2021 ignites joy in all who listen. 

Review Under Two: Nathan Bell's Red, White, and American Blues (it can happen here)

Photo by Keith Belcher

The novel It Can’t Happen Here by Sinclair Lewis was published in 1935. It tells the story of Berzelius “Buzz” Windrop, a demagogue who is elected as President of the United States and subsequently seizes authoritarian power. Winthrop is in over his head, an unlikely populist juggernaut, and not smart enough to hold the job. Sound familiar? Almost feels like it can in fact happen here, doesn’t it?

Like its partial namesake, Nathan Bell’s Red, White, and American Blues (it can happen here) is an unfortunately timeless piece of art. Necessary in its import. Heartbreaking in its relevance. 

Written over the course of several years and delayed in its release by the COVID-19 pandemic, Red, White, and American Blues has a transportative quality. The tension of recording in 2019, a stress that is often forgotten due to subsequent events, feels immediately present to the listener. While the record feels like 2019, it also feels like 2015 and 2021 and 1935, because Nathan Bell lives in the present and he has lived.

Lived in the sense of raised a family. Lived in the sense of worked a 9 to 5 job. Lived in the sense of come home from work and put on the ball game. In the sense of read all the books and listened to all the records. He has a poet’s eye with an everyman’s heart. Red, White, and American Blues (it can happen here) is the self-aware expression of a life well-lived. It is what every songwriter seeks- an honest expression of where we have been and where we are now. 

The album is musically sparse which allows Bell’s command of storytelling and imagery to shine. Bell takes on America’s gun obsession (twice), “Buzz”-Windrop-come-to-life Donald Trump, and more that ails this country. He also celebrates everyday folks, pays respect to his late father, and examines mortality with an optimistic eye. 

Red, White, and American Blues (it can happen here) would be a powerhouse of a record if the vocals were Bell’s alone. The contributions of Aubrie Sellers, Regina McCrary, and Patty Griffin take songs that stand on their own two feet and launch them into rarified air. 

The collapse of a free society can, and very well may, happen here. It won’t happen for lack of artists like Nathan Bell turning a critical eye on American society.

Lived in the sense of raised a family. Lived in the sense of worked a 9 to 5 job. Lived in the sense of come home from work and put on the ball game. In the sense of read all the books and listened to all the records. He has a poet’s eye with an everyman’s heart. Red, White, and American Blues (it can happen here) is the self-aware expression of a life well-lived. It is what every songwriter seeks- an honest expression of where we have been and where we are now. 

The album is musically sparse which allows Bell’s command of storytelling and imagery to shine. Bell takes on America’s gun obsession (twice), “Buzz”-Windrop-come-to-life Donald Trump, and more that ails this country. He also celebrates everyday folks, pays respect to his late father, and examines mortality with an optimistic eye. 

Red, White, and American Blues (it can happen here) would be a powerhouse of a record if the vocals were Bell’s alone. The contributions of Aubrie Sellers, Regina McCrary, and Patty Griffin take songs that stand on their own two feet and launch them into rarified air. 

The collapse of a free society can, and very well may, happen here. It won’t happen for lack of artists like Nathan Bell turning a critical eye on American society.

The album is musically sparse which allows Bell’s command of storytelling and imagery to shine. Bell takes on America’s gun obsession (twice), “Buzz”-Windrop-come-to-life Donald Trump, and more that ails this country. He also celebrates everyday folks, pays respect to his late father, and examines mortality with an optimistic eye. 

Red, White, and American Blues (it can happen here) would be a powerhouse of a record if the vocals were Bell’s alone. The contributions of Aubrie Sellers, Regina McCrary, and Patty Griffin take songs that stand on their own two feet and launch them into rarified air. 

The collapse of a free society can, and very well may, happen here. It won’t happen for lack of artists like Nathan Bell turning a critical eye on American society.

A Series of Essays on The Marinade's Favorite Albums of 2020 | Fetch the Bolt Cutters by Fiona Apple

Fiona Apple’s Fetch the Bolt Cutters blasted into the world while much of the United States was still in quarantine due to the COVID-19 pandemic. Do you remember when you first listened to it? I was in my living room. My partner and I had just played a game of Scrabble and I succumbed to my Twitter-checking reflex. My feed is full of artists and fans of art so just about every other Tweet referenced the triumph of Apple’s surprise album.

We dialed it up in an instant and listened while dinner was prepared. About once a week for a couple of months we listened together, not to mention the times we each listened alone. Fetch the Bolt Cutters is unlike anything I have heard this year or any other. It is unpredictable, powerful, honest, cathartic, pop, rock, hip hop, soul. Every time I think I have the record figured out another listen sets me straight.

Fetch the Bolt Cutters comes from a place of liberation and this year in so many ways felt like a personal liberation for me. I was forced to confront my anxiety about mortality without the benefit of escape. I was faced with an examination of my commitment to causes I have long made noise about but which require more than just noise. And, I insisted on being paid what I’m worth. 

Apple’s masterpiece was a fitting soundtrack to a tumultuous year of growth. It was messy, complicated, and challenging. There were fits of anger and bursts of hope. At the end, as difficult as it may seem, love won a lot more than hate. Anger was channeled into action. And, the future looks brighter than the past. 

A Series of Essays on The Marinade's Favorite Albums of 2020 | Roll On by Water Liars

This is the second in a series of short essays looking back at the records we loved from 2020. The series focuses on how each album impacted Jason Earle’s life this year.

Few records rise to all occasions. There are songs for dancing. Those for drinking. Music for lounging. Road trip music. Songs for fucking. Sometimes an album overlaps in a couple of those places. Other records remain siloed. 

Then there are albums like Roll On by Water Liars. The rare artistic effort achieving universality of mood. An album for any moment.

You get home from one of those days for which you were unprepared. The kind where dominoes seem to resist gravity.

You just got a promotion, have been feeling good and taking care of yourself- eating right and exercising. You want to rock. Bounce up and down and sing at the top of your lungs. 

It’s Saturday. The rest of the family is out doing family things. They let you sleep in because you are a lucky mother fucker with a bad ass family. You enjoy the luxury of a slow cup of coffee sitting by the window and watching your world awaken.

Roll On does what its title track promises- carrying the listener through whatever life presents. Justin Peter Kinkel-Schuster’s writing spans a lyrical spectrum from epic ruminations on love and perseverance to sparse, abstract nods to anxiety. The imagery is vivid. The mood in each song is set. 

“Down Colorado I followed your shadow/And credit card receipts/The cocaine receding, the western sky bleeding/The mountains in relief/I never deserve you but how could I earn you/When stone ain’t made to bleed?”

On the whole I have been one of the lucky ones in the year 2020. The pandemic slowed me down and made me rethink my day-to-day. I was able to refocus on the relationships that mattered and distance myself from those that were taking more than they were adding. I stood up and advocated for myself. I fought the right battles and let go of the other stuff. 

There were personal and professional challenges, both self-created and as the result of outside forces. It was not a perfect effort but again, relative to most folks I was fortunate. 

July and August was a tough stretch of the year. COVID-19 cases were climbing. Schools weighing whether to re-open despite not having the resources to keep people safe. The 2020 election loomed as the potential final nail in the coffin of our eroded democracy. 

Roll On was delivered right on time. The record was made in 2015 but released in the middle of this year. It may not have reached my ears in 2015. Hell, even if it did I may not have needed it so bad five years ago. Roll On was there for what turned out to be a second half full of hope in 2020. 

I kept coming back to the record, bingeing it and finding new nuggets during each listening session. I also went back into the Water Liars catalog and those of its individual members. I found comfort in the atmosphere of Water Liars. Roll On was a steady friend and a willing partner in the second half of 2020.

A Series of Essays on The Marinade's Favorite Albums of 2020 | Reunions by Jason Isbell and the 400 Unit

This is the first in a series of short essays looking back at the records we loved from 2020. The series focuses on how each album impacted Jason Earle’s life this year.

“Be Afraid,” the first single released from Jason Isbell and the 400 Unit’s Reunions came out in February of 2020, the same weekend I ran my first marathon. It was a fitting release date. The great ones have this way of putting out the sentiment we need at the right time. The novel coronavirus arrived in Florida in the same month but life was continuing as normal. Our challenges were of our own creation at the moment.

For the amateur, running a marathon is an encompassing endeavor. Most of your free time is spent training, meal planning, and recovering. Your emotional bank account is on life support for several months. 

To get across the finish line you need your personal support system, which I consider to include my friends and family but also the art I consume. Like art, running is rhythmic. The physical act itself and the process of training for a race both require a consistent commitment to coming back to the things you need to stay in the moment. 

The act of creation is similar in so many ways. When we find ourselves doing the work on a regular basis, treating it with a certain rhythm, breakthroughs happen on a more regular basis. 

What we know about Jason Isbell is that he does the work. Hours of guitar practice every day. Going back to the well again and again. 

Photo by Jason Earle

The result of Isbell’s dedication is a succession of classic albums. Prior to his 2020 release, the last three (or four) of his records are brilliant works. But, it is possible no record has ever hit me as hard as Reunions. 

The year 2020 was one for facing fears. Fears of democracy’s decline and possible end. Fears of mortality. We as a species had to dig deep. Isbell could not have known the depth and breadth of challenges humans would face this year, and that is why a song like “Be Afraid” is so powerful. Its message matters as much now as it will in five or ten years. 

New challenges and fears will follow. The same ones will rear their heads. All the while, great art - works of the magnitude of Reunions - will be there as support. A way to think through and deal with our fears. A “battle cry” as Isbell says on that first single.  

Jason Isbell and the 400 Unit’s Reunions is the record I listened to the most in 2020 because it represents the best of us. Our ability to endure and innovate. Our willingness to keep fighting when the finish line seems to push further and further away. Whether pushing ourselves to run a marathon or just surviving a once in a hundred year shit storm, we can “be very afraid,” but we also must ask ourselves, “What have I done to help”?

Album Review | American Aquarium's Lamentations

It feels like yesterday American Aquarium released Things Change, a record begging the listener to live in its characters. A man consoling his partner who devastatingly recognizes the “world is on fire.” Someone coming to the hard realization they are better off confronting their addictions. Characters wrestling with the unconscionable and somehow making sense of it. 

Things Change was strong enough that new realizations continue to bubble to the surface. My initial reaction to the news that American Aquarium was headed into the studio with Shooter Fucking Jennings was, “I get you have a lot to say BJ, but we ain’t done processing the last one.”

Things Change was released in 2018. Since then, the pace of the real world has accelerated to warp speed while the power of American Aquarium’s Things Change has kept pace. When BJ Barham removed the governor from his songwriting motor several years ago, the result was an ascendancy to the upper echelon of his generation of tunesmiths. 

Lamentations, American Aquarium’s latest release straddles the raucous honky tonk rock of early American Aquarium and the more socially conscious nature of Barham’s last collection of songs. The themes are familiar - hard work, substance abuse and sobriety, the South, sad stories. With Lamentations, Barham has taken another huge step forward in songcraft. 

As we have come to expect, the album opens with a kick-in-the-teeth tune that comes to a soaring, anthemic coda. These things usually need time to marinate before we declare superlatives. Nonetheless, the title track is Barham’s finest songwriting. “Me + Mine (Lamentations)” sets the tone for an album full of scorching hot songs that feel like they were recorded at an American Aquarium show somewhere in Texas, the band’s home away from home. 

If you have seen them there, you know what I mean. American Aquarium always brings it regardless of venue. BJ and the boys (this lineup and those past) are professionals who take their craft seriously. But, the band is fueled by the fervor of its fans and folks in Texas take it up a notch.

More than any other studio release, Lamentations captures the spirit of American Aquarium’s greatest live shows- a testament to the touch of producer Shooter Jennings. Shooter seems to be the bridge between early, raw American Aquarium and the renaissance that began with Burn. Flicker. Die.

Most importantly, Barham has taken another stride in his examination of the South. We are living in a time where a generation of southern writers are taking on the South with a warm demanding hand. Folks like the Bitter Southerner, Jason Isbell, Drive-by Truckers, Lee Bains III- the list is long and growing. A group of people who are not content to make excuses for the way things are and the way things were. 

“I believe in a better south,” Barham sings on the album’s eighth track. It is a tune showcasing his acute ability to use critical observation as a source of hope. Hope for a better South, a better nation, a more honest examination of the ills that plague us collectively and individually. Lamentations is more than a new American Aquarium record. It’s a manifesto of the power of our best instincts.

Album Review | Rod Picott's Tell the Truth and Shame the Devil

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Rod Picott found himself free-soloing up a sheer face. The soles of his shoes slipping 2,000 feet above an abyss, imminent peril the likely result. While confronting impossible odds, Picott kept creating. And, after some semblance of normalcy was restored, he created some more. The result is a stunning work of art called Tell the Truth and Shame the Devil.

Picott has long been one of the great songwriters of his generation. His bonafides are well established, but this record cements him as something different. It is the best of an impressive catalog and there are a few clear reasons for that.

Born on either end of a major health scare, Tell the Truth and Shame the Devil is as raw as a fresh breakup wound, a reflection on the origin story of a man’s life as he stares down death and loneliness and wonders where to go from here. The record is not overly romantic. In fact, in parts it thumbs its nose at the notion of romanticizing life’s brutal bits.

The mood is one of sitting on a precipice looking down between dangling feet, taking in the struggle of of the climb. Celebrating progress while recognizing the mistakes that were and those that could have let to the catastrophic destruction of everything that matters.

The gift of this record is that it is a window into the thoughts and emotions of a great writer. Picott opens the cellar door on his fears, crutches, and desires. He leads us down the rickety steps of his psyche by shining a lantern on each rung. At the end of the journey we reach a room filled with hope. Not a dank, closed basement, but a space walled with doors and mirrors, reflections of ourselves leading to the possibility of self-discovery and improvement.

Tell the Truth and Shame the Devil demands heavy lifting from both artist and consumer. The work is rewarding. Rod Picott’s new record Tell the Truth and Shame the Devil comes out on July 19. Stay tuned to marinadepodcast.com for a conversation with the man himself starting July 5th. It’ll pair well with your Fourth of July hangover.