Un-Country Country

Today we take a look at two singer-songwriters with country music ties, but very un-country new albums. Kacey Musgraves is a country music phenomenon, having won multiple Grammys and other accolades, most recently for the brilliant Golden Hours, which re-purposed the best country attributes and rejected the rest. Now Musgraves has a new album out, Star Crossed, which bears no resemblance to either its predecessor or to country music in general.

Brandi Carlile is a…well, it’s difficult to say what genre this artist dabbles in. You can hear a lot of rock, folk, and soul influence in her music, but there’s always a country element. As Carlile herself noted, “No matter what I do, I just can’t get the country and western out of my voice.” That caveat aside, her latest album, In These Silent Days, also bears scant resemblance to country music. 

So if it’s not country, what is it? In the case of Star Crossed, Musgraves has made an Easy Listening album. There are zero relics of the country formula here. Pedal steel and electric guitars have been replaced by soft synths and acoustic guitars. Country’s trademark harmonies are rare. Expressive vocals are given the heave-ho, too; now they’re mostly muted and unobtrusive, lest they disturb the smooth vibe. 

Of course, there’s nothing wrong with mellow albums. They come in handy when, for instance, you need some make-out music in the background. If you’ve worn out your Sade and Sinatra go-tos, this Musgraves collection will serve equally well. However, for actual listening, the album falls disappointingly short.

The first problem is that the songs have a numbing sameness. Musgraves never had a particularly powerful or rich voice. Nor does she possess any vibrato, range, or ability to sing in a variety of styles. At times, her singing bears an unfortunate resemblance to a squeak. What she does have, though, is a straightforward earnestness that can be quite winning, as it was on Golden Hour. But pair her limited vocals with equally homogenous arrangements and you have a prescription for boredom. 

It would be different if the songs themselves were memorable, but few in this collection are. Did I say a few? I meant “one.” “Justified” is the only track here that’s up to the bar set by Golden Hours. The remaining tracks go in one ear and out the other without stopping to make an impression. 

Lyrics are a letdown, too. This is surprising from an artist who has penned many thoughtful songs, not to mention one of the best album names in country music history: “Same trailer, different park.” Here, she has this to say about one-night stands: “This hookup scene/Ain’t all that it’s made out to be/You get your fill and leave empty/More lonely than before.” Thanks, Kacey, I never heard that sentiment expressed before. Or how about this stunning show of originality: “There is a light/At the end of the tunnel/There is a light/Inside of me.” Seriously, how many artists can cram so many cliches into a single stanza?

Too harsh? Go back and listen to Golden Hours, then tell me this artist can’t do much better. That album sounds better, too. Here we have standard, slick Pro Tools pop. Things are fine so long as they’re simple. Once the layers build up, congestion sets in. Further, there is no hi-res version. So sonics aren’t a saving grace.

But all is not lost. During the same timeframe that I was listening to Star Crossed, I was also getting to know—and getting excited about—Brandi Carlile’s In These Silent Days. What a contrast! Whereas Musgraves’ vocals are restrained and meek, Brandi’s cover everything between intimate and full-on shrieking. While Kacey’s tone is high and thin, Brandi’s is deep and rich. And when Kacey laments being with the wrong man, she sings a Milquetoast: “And you lay beside/Somebody you know isn’t right.” Brandi’s take on the same situation is infused with regret and pain: “You’re sweeping up the flies/And you’ve been vacuuming the fires/And you lay down every night/Next to a goddamn liar.” 

In These Silent Days actually has more country elements than Star Crossed. In particular there are Carlile’s voice and some well-deployed harmonies. But the album doesn’t play as a country record. It’s closest in spirit to Laurel Canyon circa the 1970s. That analogy is broad enough to include the playful, acoustic, Joni Mitchell-esque “You and Me on the Rock” and the Neil Young/Crazy Horse electric drive of “Broken Horses.” Neither the songwriting nor the performances ever let up, and the recording does its part by keeping the proceedings cleanly focused exactly where they should be: on Brandi’s bravura vocals. 

Ultimately, the charms of this standout album are demonstrated in a single line from the song “Letter to the Past”: “You’re a stone wall/In a world full of rubber bands.” That verse is full of surprise and originality, yet is immediately accessible, understandable and ultimately irresistible. You could say the same for the entire album.