What comes first, the music or the mood? The melody or the mindset? The fiddle or the feeling? Does an emotive voice really rocket us to happiness and/or drop us into despair? Or, due to outside factors, are we already there when we plop the stylus onto the groove?
Those questions might best be addressed in analysis, no doubt, whether professional or courtesy of a barkeep, as the answers likely indicate how one’s mind works. That said, layman me leans more toward Jung’s theory of the collective unconscious than Freud’s belief that repressed desires and traumatic memories drive behavior and decisions. No matter the divisions foisted on us, and they are, we share surprisingly similar hopes, fears, and laments no matter where we’re from or our backgrounds.
Who hasn’t struggled with bills? Dealt with disappointment? Lost or almost lost someone to addiction? Brit Taylor’s latest long player, Land of the Forgotten, steps into the shoes of the downtrodden—though “downtrodden” is the wrong word. “Resilient” is a better fit. She and Adam Chaffins, her husband, cowriter (along with Adam Wright) and producer, have shaped songs that reflect the realities faced by most. She captures and conveys the concerns, complaints and crises that keep folks up at night, in other words, and provides catharsis along the way. It’s far from a dark journey, however, with songs often punctuated with joy and humor—good times may not balance the bad but good times are to be had. As she explains in the press release, “I think it puts a lighthearted spin on some of the tougher things about life. Not to make light of difficult times but to remind us two things can exist at one time and not to forget to take a look at the bright side too and to not take it all so seriously.” In addition to Chaffins (bass, acoustic guitar, backing vocals), she’s accompanied by Stuart Duncan (fiddle, mandolin, banjo), Justin Schipper (dobro, steel guitar), Adam Wright (acoustic guitar, piano), Jedd Hughes (electric guitar), and Chris Powell (drums, percussion).
“Broke No More,” which kicks off the 11-track set, is a great example. Forget riches—who doesn’t dream of not being in debt?! Of holding down one job, not two? The bluegrass-flavored “All for Sale,” which follows, shows one way to get there when a woman fed up with an ex deigns to offload his stuff. (If she’s not careful, she’ll end up on Judge Judy. Just sayin’!) As with several other tracks, it’s a fiery [Dixie] Chicks-like tune accented by a bucket-load of humor. “Warning You Whiskey” sheds the jokes when she steps into the shoes of a woman losing her love to the bottle; her voice quivers and quakes, positively aches.
The banjo-driven “Done Pretending” may well be the aftermath, when she demands the respect she deserves. It lines up with another quote in the release: “At this point in my life I am so over it and refuse to water myself down to fit any sort of narrative. I’m no longer sugar-coating my life experiences to make a softer, more commercial lyric. I think there’s so many women out there who need fearlessly honest songs again.”
The title track turns the spotlight on her native Appalachia—she grew up in the same region of Eastern Kentucky that gave birth to Loretta Lynn, Keith Whitley, the Judds, and Tyler Childers, among others. Though so many musical stalwarts hail from there, however, the region and people—like plenty of others in America—are pretty much ignored. While Taylor is a millennial, the rollicking “Lately I’ve Been Thinking” gives off major Gen X vibes with its “whatever”-like cynical optimism—and it features a great vocal, to boot; the same’s true of “Queen of Fools,” about falling for someone she knows she shouldn’t. The gently rocking “Around and Around,” meanwhile, delves into the world most of us inhabit, aka running on a hamster wheel, with ample humor strewn along the way.
“Crazy Leaf” explores how every family tree has one or two leaves that aren’t like the others—not proverbial black sheep, but more akin to baby belted goats. (Count me as one!) “Bars Closing” allows Taylor to again show off her vocal prowess—the grain in her voice is a wonder to behold. The album closes with the dramatic “Birds of Prey,” a moody ode that steps into the shadows to find the light; it’s sure to be a showstopper in concert. In some respects, weird as it may sound, it reminds me of the last songs on Dan Fogelberg’s ‘70s outings, a grand statement that lives up to its intent.
In short, Land of the Forgotten is a bluegrass-flavored gem that conjures the country music of the 1990s and early 2000s, when Patty Loveless, Lee Ann Womack, the Chicks and others shared songs about life as it is, not the fairy tales too often force fed us. Taylor fantasizes of better times, as we all do, mines hope from despair, and above all resolves to soldier on. To double back to the opening paragraph, with this album the music and mood arrive in lockstep. It’s a tremendous album that demands repeated listens—my favorite release of the year, thus far.
It’s out this Friday (March 6th) on all the usual streamers, and can be purchased on vinyl or compact disc for those who prefer a hands-on experience. (FYI, signed LPs are available via her online store.)
The Old Grey Cat 