“Did you miss me?” Shelby asks on “But I Ain’t,” a track halfway through the first side of her latest album. It’s a question posed to a former lover who, she shares, threw her out “with pink flowers in the trash.” I can’t help to think a part of her is directing the question to us, her fans, as well.
I can’t speak for the ne’er-do-well who broke her heart, of course, or other fans. I can only say that Diane and I have indeed missed her. Rare it is for a week to pass when one or both of us doesn’t recall that rainy night in Pennsylvania when she left everyone at the Ardmore Music Hall bewitched, bewildered and spellbound—and even helped a beau propose to his beloved! Just thinking about it sends my internal hyperbole machine into overdrive.
In some respects, Consequences of the Crown reminds me in part of the independent movie that Shelby starred in, Here I Am, which was renamed When We Kill the Creators at some point after its initial release. It’s a flawed yet fascinating outing, the kind of film that once upon a time would have rocketed her to—at the least—an Oscar nomination. (It’s available, for a price, from Amazon and other PPV providers.) She plays a successful singer who’s haunted by a long-ago tragedy and is riveting throughout, including on several voice-over soliloquies. The soundtrack, which doesn’t appear to be available anymore, features two of those monologues alongside stirring original songs, including a few that wound up on her self-titled 2020 album. I listen to it from time to time, still. I’m getting somewhat far afield, I know, but I should also point out her 1999 breakthrough, I Am Shelby Lynne, blended country, rock and R&B in a way few albums before or since have—and it, too, features several spoken-word bits.
There are antecedents for everything, in other words. Consequences is a mix of soliloquy and song, with the spoken words evolving into tuneful musings about life, love, heartache and more. It’s a soulful, uncluttered production that places the emphasis where it belongs, her voice. The opening “Truth We Know” is a good case in point. She speaks, sings and speaks again, her vocal rising high before swooping low. The second track, “Consequences,” delves into the ramifications that come from loving another. They can be good and they can be bad, with the bad too often coming when once least expects it.
The LP comes with liner notes from Shelby that find her rhapsodizing about her sister, Allison Moorer. “She is my butterfly,” she writes. “Butterfly,” the third track, is a celebration of her that is as sweet as it is catchy; it essentially flutters from Shelby’s heart into ours. “Gone to Bed,” which features another spoken-word passage, is hypnotic.
Much has been made of Shelby’s return to Nashville. She wasn’t intending to record a new album, she’s said, just write some songs in hopes of scoring a songwriting deal. Along the way, she hooked up with Ashley Monroe, Karen Fairchild and Gena Johnson and, before she knew it, signed a deal with Monument Records. See this Variety article for more.
“Good Morning Mountain” is another highlight. As she says in that Variety piece, “[I]t’s about having a personal conversation with the mountain—the mountain being life and all its obstacles.” It leads into the stirring “Dear God,” half spoken and half sung, in which she talks about quitting alcohol (but not weed) and learning to love.
In short, as has happened to me since Friday, Consequences of the Crown is one of those albums that begets additional listens. Play it once and you’ll play it twice, then in the car while on the way to the grocery store and yet again on the way home. As with Shelby’s best works, it belies easy categorization—it’s country by accent, R&B by feel and totally unique. My only criticism, and it’s a minor one, is that the LP lacks a lyric sheet.
The Old Grey Cat 
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