Years - Sarah Shook & The Disarmers

There is a distinct weariness to Years, the new album by Sarah Shook and The Disarmers. Shook’s songs are full of angst and disappointment over failed relationships and the people on both sides of those relationships. But along with the anger there is a sense that every break up and argument catalogued here is, understandably, wearing her out. 

However, this album is anything but tiring to listen to. It may not be anything new to combine elements of country and rock, but Years has a sound that’s very much it’s own. It’s clear that Sarah Shook and the Disarmers take some inspiration from a diverse range of classic country music, though Shook’s delivery and lyrics are clearly not the overly polished stuff of Nashville past or present. Tracks like New Ways To Fail have a touch of the Bakersfield sound to them, whilst Damned If I Do, Damned If I Don’t  has a Rockabilly meets Honky Tonk feel. But despite having the hallmarks of some classic country sounds, the tone of the record is grittier, more rough around the edges than a lot of country music and really fun to listen to as a result. 

Shook’s lyrics also incorporate a twist on classic country tropes, and she happily plays around with gender roles and perspectives. Women rarely get to be the hard drinkers in country music but Shook is willing to take on that role, claiming that booze is “the only thing left that I got that I can / Make me feel the man I used to be” in The Bottle Never Let’s me Down. Also, the pleading, locked out drunk on Damned If I Do… is a familiar figure in country lore (think Hank Williams’ Move It On Over) but one that, again, has usually been played by a man. Obviously Shook doesn’t shy away from self criticism here. And it’s that honesty when it comes to her own faults that makes songs like Good as Gold, where she takes a soon to be ex-lover to task, seem even more cutting. 

Whilst it’s Shook’s songwriting that stands out most on the record, the Disarmers deserve some credit for the fantastic job they do backing her up. The intertwining lines of pedal steel player Phil Sullivan and guitarist Eric Peterson in particular provide some of the most memorable moments of the album and work perfectly with Shook’s melodies. It’s the cohesive sound of a band that’s been playing together for sometime and know just what they’re doing.

Years is above all, an honest album. It’d be easy to categorise these songs as well written works of fiction if it wasn’t so easy to hear the weariness in Shook’s voice. That’s not to say she’s not giving it her all in her performance here, she clearly is, but Sarah Shook means every damn word of this record and it shows. 

Years is out now on Bloodshot Records

Podcast: Jeff Middleton

As a British person, Country music is pretty much a mystery to me. I know what it is, I know where it comes from and I have a rough idea of what it sounds like. I enjoy classic country music, I listen to artists like Caitlin Rose and Steve Earle but I know that a lot of the Country I love is either considered alternative or from a by-gone era. From what I can tell, that's only the tip of the iceberg. What about the country music that dominates radio stations in the southern United States? I know so little about that side of Country music, yet it is it's own, separate, multi-billion dollar industry.

I was lucky enough to get to talk to Nashville songwriter and guitarist for The Dirt Drifters, Jeff Middleton. In between songwriting sessions on a recent UK trip Jeff, very graciously and with great patience answered my questions about Country music, Nashville and his own adventures in songwriting.

You can download the podcast for free on iTunes and you can follow Jeff on twitter.

Nashville - Josh Rouse

It's rare that you can pinpoint the exact moment that an artist went from being good to great in your eyes. The change is usually gradual, protracted and in a lot of cases, non-existent. It's quite a stunning thing to see the change happen instantly. For me, Josh Rouse's moment came with the release of his fourth album, 1972. I'd known and liked Josh Rouse's music for a while but it wasn't until my Dad played me an advanced copy of 1972 in the car one day that I realised how good he was. It wasn't just straightforward singer/songwriter stuff anymore. He'd taken on board new influences and sounds and made an album with a real groove to it. It was Shuggy Otis by way of Freedy Johnston, yet completely original sounding at the same time. 1972 was a huge leap forward for Josh Rouse. Then, two years later, Nashville came out.

World Without End - Bob Frank And John Murry

Hands down this is the most maudlin album I own. I own records by Leonard Cohen, Tom Waits, Nick Drake and nearly everything Mark Kozelek has ever released but this is the darkest of the lot. It's not subtle about it either. Not the most ringing endorsement, but depressing, sad music is not a bad thing. There have been sad songs since the dawn of music. Sadness is an emotion and what is music but a way of expressing emotions? Just because something is upsetting doesn't make it any less valid than something uplifting and happy.

The albums premise is a simple but grisly one. Each track recounts a murder, most of them based on true stories. The tracks take their name from the victim or perpetrator of each killing (with the exception of Tupelo, Mississippi) along with the year of the death in question. Murder ballads are nothing new to country music. The genre has a long tradition of songs about death in its many forms. The thing that makes this album so special is that not only are they new songs, instead of ones culled from the big book of murder ballads, but they are genuinely eerie.