The first
time I saw Jason Isbell was at Knucklehead’s half a decade ago. It was a heck of a show – he and Justin
Townes Earle brought white-hot, coked-up energy. They were both skinny, unhealthy looking, and
incandescent with bad behavior and self-destruction. It was a great show, though I’m a bit ashamed
of the pleasure that I took in watching them thrash against whatever demons
they were fighting.
At that
time, it was pretty clear where Jason Isbell was headed, and it wasn't pretty. He got kicked out of the Drive By Truckers,
for Christ’s sake. He was a crown
prince of rowdiness.
So what
happens when your rowdy friend settles down?
In Jason
Isbell’s case, you come out with “Southeastern”, one of my favorite albums of
all-time. It’s a song of lonely roads
that lead back to love. Miserable nights
that lead to a breathtaking sunrise.
Dangerous people who are more wounded than evil. All set to beautiful guitar and gritty
bass. I love that album.
“Something More Than Free” is his next effort. It’s a truly great album, though I don’t love
it quite as easily as “Southeastern”. If
“Southeastern” was about finally heading in the right direction, “Something
More Than Free” is more about figuring out how to live in a better place. Frankly, the struggle to get there is a bit
more edgy, a bit more threatening, and a lot more evocative. At least it's simpler.
This album feels
a bit calmer than its predecessor – fewer haunting guitar notes stretched
taut. Less intensity and more
pensiveness. It’s probably prettier than
its older brother, but it’s harder to be sure exactly if that’s right.
The thing
is, I’m not sure about where he’s really at, and that ambiguity makes a big
difference in the way I hear the songs.
Take the first song, for example.
“If it Takes A Lifetime” can either be a barely-better-than-trite
zippity-doo-dah song about living past addiction, or it might be a terrifying
warning from a tortured soul. I mean, “I
don't keep liquor here, never cared for wine or beer/And working for the county
keeps me pissin' clear/The nights are dry as dust, but I'm letting my eyes
adjust/If it takes a lifetime” is a straightforward statement of sobriety and a
determination to live a clean life, right?
But what about “Man is the product of all/the people that he ever loved/And
it don't make a difference how it ended up/If I loved you once my friend, oh, I
can do it all again/If it takes a lifetime.”
I’ve seen reviewers take that as making amends and a tip of the hat to
the people he’s left behind - but what
if it isn’t? I can see it also as a
reference to his addiction as something that he’s loved, and he can do it all
again.
The more I listen to this album (and that’s
been quite a bit), the more I see subtle moral ambiguity and struggle. It’s not as clean and sharp as “Southeastern”,
though – it’s not about trying to get right; it’s about trying to stay
right. Maybe there’s a bit less urgency,
but there might be more real struggle and soul.
It’s a haunting, important album by one of the country’s best
songwriters.
Over at Deliberate Obfuscation, Robin is just damned happy to be listening to her Jason Isbell. It's an understatement to say she appreciates him, but her review is a more straightforward appreciation of an album we agree is truly great.
Next up: Ryan Adams, 1989
