White Trash Revelry by Adeem the Artist | Album Review
Adeem is back with a rich blend of socially conscious Americana and country on their sophomore outing.
In my continued hunt for new and interesting voices in the country/Americana realms, I happened upon Adeem the Artist’s debut album Cast Iron Pansexual. The queer non-binary artist’s work was a unique point of view in a sea of white cis male oriented music. Their latest album, White Trash Revelry, is a wonderfully rich mix of country and Americana that brings in the traditional story songs with a nuanced take on queer identities, race relations, and religious struggles.
Adeem brings us to all the way back to his beginnings on the album opener “Carolina”. It’s a lovely traditional country song complete with rich acoustics and the whine of a pedal steel. They enrich us in the many hardships and traumas that mother and father endured before meeting one fateful night at a Texaco. On the song’s origin, Adeem tells Apple Music:
“My dad named me after Kyle Petty. He’s a NASCAR driver. He’s a songwriter, too — pretty good songwriter. But he’s not the best NASCAR driver. No disrespect. His dad, Richard Petty, was the best NASCAR driver. They call him The King. So, my dad, with no sense of irony, named me after the son of the best ever. I saw that Kyle was playing Johnson City, and I called the owner of the venue, and I was like, ‘Look, I was named after Kyle Petty. I will sell tickets to this show. I will promote my ass off. You don’t have to pay me. Please let me open.’ That was a pretty good deal, so she gave me the gig. So, I wrote this song as I was imagining getting up in a room full of NASCAR fans at The Willow Tree coffee shop in Johnson City, Tennessee, on Bristol race weekend.”
“For Judas” is a piano driven country track on the love they once shared for a man who ended up betraying him (hence the Judas reference). It’s extremely refreshing to a queer romance being displayed over the soft hue of a pedal steel, mandolin, and a rich vocal timbre. Their reverence for this relationship, “You sold me out for some pieces of silver / But still I loved the feel of your lips/ And i never wanted more than this: to kiss you in public/ To openly say that I loved it,” displaying the beauty of this new found magic and freedom is something many of us in the LGBTQ+ community can relate with.
“Heritage of Arrogance” gives off full Jason Isbell vibes. The driving drum line and gritty electric guitar lines give a fire to Adeem’s words. The song acts as a deconstruction of the many racial biases and racist notions that not only plague those of us in the south, but across the United States. Adeem weaves many of their experiences into the song:
“I have this memory of being in Charlotte in the early ’90s, and I don’t know if it’s implanted. I don’t know if it’s a true memory or not because everything gets a little muddy back then. But it’s a memory of seeing the Klan gathered on one side of the road, and a bunch of Black activists on the other side of the road, with their fists in the air, all pissed off. And my dad just kind of being like, ‘Yeah, they hate each other.’ I had this idea for this song, and I was trying to remember if it was real or not, or if it was just a story I heard somebody in my family tell or something. And so, I googled to see if the Klan was still holding rallies in Charlotte in the ’90s. And they were. A lot. Probably a true memory.”
The song could have come off a bit smug or off putting, but Adeem does a fantastic job calling out the many racist notions that they and many others have had to confront and deconstruct. If you’re a Jason Isbell fan, I think you’d quite like this song.
We take on the oddities of religion and vices on “Painkillers and Magic”. Adeem brings up some connections between the addictive and unhinged behaviors of religious activities and use of drugs, “Marty’s on the drink again/ We reach out towards him from the sanctuary/ Some folks sing or shout/ And the room gets loud until it all sounds scary.” The song has a more Americana flare from its slightly rock and gospel inspiration. I love how rich and well spoken Adeem sounds.
“Run This Town” is good old fashioned western country number. Adeem has a quite catchy hook on the chorus as they repeat, “We’re gonna run this town (5x), into the goddamn ground but we’re gonna run it.” The song clear puts the many crooked right wing politicians on the spire to roast through their many takes on how we’re gonna ruin this town by getting everyone in our pocket.
We get a little bit of a nostalgic 90s/00s country sound on “Baptized in Well Spirits”. The prominent fiddle throughout the song is a fantastic addition. The title juxtaposes Adeem’s struggle between “sinful” behaviors and righteous actions, “Between my whiskey jar and the heart of God/ There’s a simple understanding: I’ll be drinking when I’m happy & praying when I’m sad/ Baptized in well spirits.” It’s just playful enough to have a nice light heartedness to the words they’re singing.
We blend a little bluegrass with traditional country on “Middle of a Heart”. Adeem weaves us through the many takes on shooting someone in the heart. This goes from the humble beginnings of learning to take down a deer, to stealing a woman’s heart, to training for the army, and finally ending in suicide from the many trauma’s they have suffered from what they’ve seen and done in the war. The mix of solemn banjo, mandolin, and acoustic guitar add a heaviness to each of these verses. This is one of my favorite story song’s off the album.
“Going to Hell” is a good old country number that brings to mind the tongue-in-cheek takes of some of The Chicks early albums. Adeem pokes fun at all those pious Christians who seem to leech all joy out of life on the chorus, “Do you really wanna go to heaven/ When we get this rapture started?/ Or do you want to go to hell, children,/ With Adeem the Artist?” The song might give your grandmother such a scare, but is sure to get you moving in the Honky Tonk.
Adeem takes a bluesy turn on “Redneck, Unread Hicks”. We turn the view of redneck on its side by adding some queer and liberal viewpoints to the mix, “It’s got the pronouns listed, it’s a genuine queer / Singing ‘Black Lives Matter’ to a Jimmie Rodgers melody, y’all / Well, these rednecks & unread hicks ain’t the same around here anymore.” They show quite a growth from their debut bringing much more richness and depth to the song. Adeem told Apple Music the song was inspired by his friendship with an old Knoxville police officer:
“I wrote the song mostly for my friend Bob. He was a retired Knoxville police officer and a Navy veteran. He worked on boats. I would go have breakfast with Bob and make him bacon and eggs. And he’d be like, ‘Make some for yourself, buddy.’ We’d watch the birds outside and eat bacon and eggs, and that’s what we did. All of his kids had died and [his wife] Carlene died. And we would just sit there and watch TV and watch the birds. He was a good friend to me. He was a dude who disagreed with me about politics more than anybody I’ve ever known, but he put his humanity first. And, yeah, that song’s for him.”
“Books & Records” takes a look at the modern struggle to survive in today’s economy. Adeem’s words and expertly crafted, however I feel their vocals a bit shaky compared to the rest of the album. Because of this, I don’t quite connect fully with song. The rich country/folk sound is still a treat to hear that brings Adeem’s words much more weight. It’s just not my favorite on the album.
We close out the record on the quieter sounds of “My America”. To provide perspective to the song, Adeem told Apple Music:
“There’s this guy named Aaron Lewis, and he’s kind of a shithead. He wrote this song called ‘Am I the Only One.’ And in this song, he has lyrics like, ‘Am I the only one willing to bleed for America?’ This guy’s not a fucking veteran. I listened to this song exactly one time, and I felt so annoyed by it that I parodied it in a silly way on Twitter. I said things like, ‘Am I the only one who’s a self-centered child? I’m only mad because my kids won’t call.’ And people told me I should put it on the record, which was really silly. But it did make me think, ‘Man, what if Aaron Lewis had enough compassion and sensitivity and care that he tried to articulate the perspective of the people he was trying to capitalize on? What if he actually loved them? What if he actually tried to understand them?’ And that song became that for me.”
As such, he seems to take a more nuanced look at Aaron Lewis’s words. By no means do they agree with their point of view, but instead adds a strange introspection that Lewis and many of the other HooRah country artists seem to be desperately lacking.
Compared to their debut, Cast Iron Pansexual, Adeem has shown a tremendous amount of growth sonically. They are still has poignant as ever while experimenting with different sounds in the Americana/country realms. As a queer southern man, I can connect with the many aspects that they discuss across the album. It remains fresh all while being grabbing onto the best of the country genre across decades. Aside from “Books & Records”, whose vocal style didn’t not work well for me, the rest of the album doesn’t have any skippable songs. I highly recommend their record if your a country fan or want to support a queer non-binary artist in the genre. My favorites:
- “Carolina”
- “For Judas”
- “Heritage of Arrogance”
- “Run This Town”
- “Middle of a Heart”
- “Redneck, Unread Hicks”
My overall rating: 8.5 out of 10.
Adeem the Artist’s Bandcamp:
