Jason Isbell’s ‘Southeastern’ is 2013's Most Outstanding Album
Alabama’s Jason Isbell sings tales of redemption and stands out from a crowded field of albums.
As a former backbone to the Drive-By Truckers’ songwriting, there was little doubt that Jason Isbell could craft poignant songs (see: “Decoration Day”). But the songwriting on his solo effort Southeastern transcends his previous work mainly because it is deeply personal and, crucially, focused. It also stands out among a pack of albums released this year as the best.
The intimacy and honesty is evident on the opening track, “Cover Me Up”: “Put your faith to the test when I tore off your dress in Richmond on high / But I sobered up and I swore off that stuff forever, this time.”
This is a record that doesn’t wallow on the past; rather, it’s defiant: there are tales of personal redemption and grappling with the temptations of addiction. “Where’s that liquor cart? Maybe we shouldn’t start,” Isbell contemplates on “Flying over Water.”
The tracks “Elephant” and “Live Oak” propel the album to greatness. The former is an intense story about a friend who is battling cancer. Isbell’s voice is effectual when he sings “There’s one thing that’s real clear to me: No one dies with dignity.”
The latter, “Live Oak,” is a story about facing the past. He sings about a lover who knows about his past and frets over whether she sees that identity or who he is now: “There’s a man who walks beside her, he is who I used to be, and I wonder if she see him and confuses him with me.” Isbell opened his Newport Folk Fest Harbor Stage set with this song, singing the first lines without any backing, and immediately drew the crowd in.
Backed by his band, the 400 Unit, the drums pack a punch and backing guitars are executed with precision. Amanda Shires, Isbell’s wife, provides an exquisite fiddle to “Stockholm,” in which she provides harmony vocals as well. Shires’
And Southeastern is admirable for its sequencing: there are true gut-punchers on the record, but they’re balanced by ballads (“Yvette”) and all out rocking romps (“Super 8”).
Southeastern isn’t a declaration, or statement. The best albums never contain either of those attributes. It’s not going to change or save rock and roll. It’s not on two discs. This is Isbell on his own, sometimes very personal, terms.
Even if it lacks hope to reach the most mainstream of audiences, Southeastern is a powerful record that should be treasured for years to come.
