I feel like I always repeat my opening discussions when it comes to these mid-year reports. I usually note how we’ve had a slow start to the year, and I usually note how I’ve found a lot of great music despite it.
And with this year … well, yeah, that pretty much holds true. But it’s also been a weird year to track. At least for country music – and its many, many adjacent musical subgenres – finding those true gems has been a slightly more difficult exercise this year; I can’t say I’ve been outright blown away by a lot so far this year. Yet in terms of overall quantity, this year has provided me with more great projects than I’ve usually found at the halfway point in other years, and I don’t want to diminish that or take it for granted – especially given the plethora of personal discoveries I’ve made.
Although, if there’s any year where I’ve absolutely wanted to craft one of these mid-year reports, it’s this one. The second half of the year looks unbelievably stacked right now for new releases: Gabe Lee, Molly Tuttle, Lori McKenna, Jason Eady, Rhiannon Giddens, Turnpike Troubadours, Morgan Wade, Ashley McBryde, Allison Russell, Lydia Loveless … and that’s just so far; my God. So I don’t want the great music already released thus far this year to forgotten or ignored.
So, of the 50+ albums I’ve reviewed thus far this year, here is my list of my 12 favorite releases either within or adjacent to country music this year. As per tradition, I’m only counting releases that I’ve reviewed in some form, so if you’re looking for a deeper discussion, you’ll find eligible releases here. Also, just because I haven’t reviewed something already doesn’t mean I won’t further on down the line. Also note that just because an album isn’t listed here doesn’t mean it won’t have a shot at my eventual year-end list, or represented in some form otherwise. With that all out of the way, let’s get started.
The weird thing about this year is that there are very few immediately gripping releases. Some are slow-burns that are absolutely worth the time to let settle and dive further into, to be clear, but in terms of projects that click instantaneously, this first album did so and has held up all the better for it:
No. 12 - The War & Treaty, Lover’s Game
Favorite tracks: “Lover’s Game,” “Ain’t No Harmin’ Me,” “Yesterday’s Burn”
Really, on pure talent alone I’d have to include the War & Treaty on a list like this. Both Michael Trotter Jr. and Tanya Trotter are phenomenal vocal powerhouses on their own and even better together, but I think what makes Lover’s Game feel so robust runs much deeper than that. Compared to past projects, there’s a bolder refinement across the board here, making it so that no matter what lane they choose to step into – be it crooning country balladry, roiling pop and R&B, or swaggering southern-rock – they own it with ease. Yes, they do tend to stick to the old married couple cliché of singing about, well, being married, but with so much plainspoken maturity that gets to come through in the actual writing, it’s just such a remarkably charming listen and easy album to enjoy, with plenty of well-balanced production to match. It’s the duo at their punchiest with their most varied set of tunes to date, a game well worth playing.
OK, compared to this next artist’s previous album, I admit I’ve been less blown away by the follow-up than I’d prefer. But there’s also a natural magnetic resonance to said artist’s work that can’t help but be infectious and inviting. As such:
No. 11 – Pony Bradshaw, North Georgia Rounder
Favorite tracks: “Holler Rose,” “Safe in the Arms of Vernacular,” “Notes on a River Town”
I won’t say Pony Bradshaw’s work is necessarily always going to be for everyone. There’s a lot of complicated, heady framing present not just in the subtext but in the outright text itself, furthered here by even slower pacing than before and a reliance on minor chords to set very lived-in and heartbreaking scenes. But man, as far as those scenes are concerned, there’s so much rich detail between the lines that it’s hard not to be in constant awe regardless. It’s an album comprised of shots and still frames of weary Appalachia and the simultaneous beauty that can come even through the darkness, where the imagery itself is free-roaming and rich, even if the actual interpretations and meanings will vary.
Even then, while I do prefer the more robust character sketches of his last album, Calico Jim, I think North Georgia Rounder highlights how much of a force Bradshaw is beyond his writing simply as a vocalist, the sort of wonderfully emotive, captivating interpreter with enough ragged edge to still be able to imbue so much cathartic expressiveness into his stories and characters. Ain’t no master of this man, indeed.
This is another slow-burn project that only continues to grow on me with every listen, and if this next artist isn’t on your radar yet, she should be:
No. 10 – Amanda Fields, What, When and Without
Favorite tracks: “Trail of Unforgiveness” (feat. Ryan Culwell), “Mourning Dove,” “Without You”
Even with just ten songs that run a little beyond a half an hour, this album feels purposefully draining, and I mean that in a great way. What’s striking about Amanda Fields and her writing is just how willing she is to let each song settle, not only to let the atmosphere linger but also to allow room for the fuller details of each scenario to fluctuate. Considering this is an album centered squarely around heartache, too, there’s a lot of devastation to be found throughout … but also a lot of catharsis and healing. It’s excellently performed material by an artist with a strikingly clear-toned, hypnotic quality to her delivery, and I can’t wait to hear more.
Before we move on, let’s stick to tradition and highlight a few excellent songs from albums not on this list, in order of when I reviewed them, starting with:
From Tale of Two Towns, the title track, “Tale of Two Towns,” by Brandon Ratcliff: Dissecting an old country music cliché with a lot of careful balance and nuance; it’s the first song of the year I loved, and it’s held up excellently.
From Strays, “County Road,” by Margo Price: A song wrapped in a spacious, dark elegance that takes a heartbreaking look at a past friend who died young in a tragic accident, in turn saying goodbye to reckless days and old ghosts; easily my favorite thing I’ve heard from her.
From I’m Not Crying, You’re Crying, “Division 5,” by Whitehorse: A slice of dark humor and abject torture as a man tries to turn the authorities in order to track down a missing lover, where their only response is to laugh and tell him to let her go. Case closed, I guess.
From Come Get Your Wife, “Jersey Giant,” by Elle King: It’s a cover of an old song that was actually released last year, but I’m counting it here anyway because it’s only grown on me with time. Great song; great interpretation.
From Feel Good Country, “Bad Imagination,” by Sundy Best: A track placed against a booming echo where faith is shaken, it’s not an easy song to confront in its grappling of mental health. But hell, it’s not like there won’t be plenty of that to be found on this list anyway. I’m so happy to have these guys back.
From Kentucky Blue, “For a Night,” by Brit Taylor: A would-be Countrypolitan classic from another era that’s so lush, warm, and excellent.
And finally, from Rolling Up the Welcome Mat, “Just Married,” by Kelsea Ballerini: I didn’t care enough to keep up with the drama following this project’s release, but it’s still great on its own, with plenty of Kelsea Ballerini’s best-ever songwriting. This is just one example.
Back to the list!
Sad as it is to say, there comes a point when long-established acts release new music, and the expectation is usually that it’ll be decent-to-good but without the same firepower as their glory days. I’ve never liked to adopt that mentality, and it’s cases like these that provide the reason why:
No. 9 – Lucero, Should’ve Learned By Now
Favorite tracks: “Time to Go Home,” “Macon If We Make It,” “Drunken Moon”
OK, yeah, it’s probably their best album in over a decade. But I’m still going to defend When You Found Me as a misunderstood gem. With this album, on the other hand, the appeal is much more straightforward: it’s Lucero getting back to where they best operate, in crass-as-hell, swaggering fuck-up territory, performed with their usual wily, rambunctious tendencies.
Call it a self-aware, return-to-roots project that’s still lighthearted and self-aware enough to have fun with itself, even if, like it or not, this is still a band that has to now balance out their wildfires with the weight of age and perspective. It’s an album tempered by plenty of fleeting moments of youthful ambition hanging by a wire, which should make for a disaster on paper. Yet between its lighthearted nature and it being the band’s most consistently melodic and hook-driven project to date, this is a late-career gem that deserves any praise given its way.
This was a weird discovery for me for a time, a debut album by an artist I knew I liked from the moment I heard it, but also one that I liked for the other acts it reminded me of in terms of sound and influence. The hard part was finding the more unique point-of-view, and at this point, I think I’ve found it:
No. 8 – JD Clayton, Long Way From Home
Favorite tracks: “Different Kind of Simple Life,” “Heartaches From Heartbreak,” “Sleepy Night in Nashville”
It’s an album that sits pretty squarely at the altar of its ‘70s-inspired country and southern-rock worship, but the reason I’ve kept returning to JD Clayton’s Long Way From Home is because there’s so much anthemic heart to it. Not only is that captured through Clayton’s expressive, charismatic delivery and rapscallion charm, but also through the album’s big soulful bent in a lot of the crescendos and rollicking grooves.
Kind of fitting for a debut album about trying to make it in Nashville, where the dreamers featured here may never find what they’re looking for in the end – but damn if they aren’t going to give it all they have until there’s nothing left. It’s just so infectious and charming throughout, and delivered by a hangdog performer who understands himself and his characters well, allowing him to convey a lot of roughness in the beaten-down moments, while also knowing how to cut through to lend power to actually getting through the struggle. It’s been slept-on by way too many folks – please help change that!
The most recent addition to my list, and a discovery I’m so glad I made in time:
No. 7 – Jaimee Harris, Boomerang Town
Favorite tracks: “Missing Someone,” “Like You,” “Boomerang Town”
Boomerang Town is the sort of slow-burn project that puts its focus on the writing and delivery above all else, and one I adore because of it. It’s an album that takes it time to set its scenes and characters, which is what adds tension and weight to the moments of intense passion and emotional devastation. It’s also just a very human album at its core, able to draw a lot of unfortunately relatable scenes with empathy for the characters who have to endure their forced hardships, in life, love, and everything in between. If anything, it’s what makes the few moments of levity where hope is found in earnest all the sweeter and worth cherishing. Again, it’s another album here I wouldn’t say is easy to confront, but it’s so richly rewarding for its superbly detailed writing, that I think it’s worth the chance to let it sink and settle.
And now, here are seven more song from albums not featured on this list:
First up, and I can’t believe this is happening, from I Hate Cowboys & All Dogs Go To Hell, “Oklahoma,” by Chase Rice feat. Read Southall Band:
Look, no comment, OK?
From Stampede, “Anywhere But Here,” by the Shootouts feat. Buddy Miller: Another fun, lighthearted, rollicking find, and from a great album, to boot.
From Tough Country, “The Corner Comedian,” by the Panhandlers: It stings not including this group’s sophomore effort on the list proper, given that it was a great listen and slipped under the radar for a lot of folks. But “The Corner Comedian” has been the definite highlight for me, one of my favorite songs of the year in general for its heartbreaking depiction of homelessness. Haunting song.
From Gettin’ Old, “Where the Wild Things Are,” by Luke Combs: Sneer if you want; Gettin’ Old is the final album I cut from the list. It’s a huge improvement for Luke Combs in nearly every regard and features some of his best-ever material, including this unexpected pivot into atmospheric territory with a great story to match.
From Before the Record, “Thinkin’ Bout Cheatin’,” by Mae Estes: A clever twist on a familiar topic in country music, and a fantasic neotraditional cut in general that would (and should) have been a hit in another era.
From his self-titled album, “Closing Time,” by Jake Worthington: Minus the twist part, ditto what I said above. A fitting closing track that aims tried-and-true in its concept and succeeds for its simplicity.
And lastly, from High & Low, “I Think Of You,” by Caitlyn Smith: Intensely passionate heartache territory that really is an easy fit for Caitlyn Smith in terms of raw firepower, and certainly better for it.
Back to the list again:
I must admit this project has faded on me over time, although weirdly enough, I also think it’s happened by pure design. Anyone who’s championed this artist’s work has likely found some deep catharsis from it, and that’s why, despite being his messiest album yet, it’s still here:
No. 6 - Ruston Kelly, The Weakness
Favorite tracks: “Michael Keaton,” “Wicked Hands,” “Cold Black Mile”
The Weakness continuously fascinates me. On one hand, it’s Ruston Kelly’s splashiest album to date, and takes so many swings away from the country-leaning flair of his past two projects, that I can see why folks have also called this his most immediate project yet, even despite its messiness. And while I think that’s partly dismissive, I also get it. For as confessional and vulnerable as he’s always been willing to be through his work in order to find healing, there is a resonance there in his constant forward-thinking outlook that gives it an anthemic heart.
So even through some of his messiest production to date, we get songs that rise above with soaring hooks to rise above the darkness. All the more fitting for a project that tests the same stability established on previous projects. Far from the weakness – this is all about establishing new strengths.
Conversely, this is a project that’s only grown on me even more with time, in part because it’s her best album in years:
No. 5 – Brandy Clark, Brandy Clark
Favorite tracks: “Northwest,” “She Smoked in the House,” “All Over Again”
Look, when you pair Brandy Clark’s mature, cutting writing with Brandi Carlile’s more restrained touch, it’s almost guaranteed to work by design. And while I’d still say Clark’s self-titled effort is just a few sharper arrangements away from being her absolute best to date, it does lay one hell of a great foundation – hopefully with more to come.
Yet outside of that, I’d also just say this album simultaneously houses some of Clark’s most compassionate and darkest moments to date, another album, like 2020’s Your Life is a Record, to focus on personal healing and reflection. And by stripping it all back to the basics, you get an album that’s raw and unflinching, perfectly complementing Clark not only as a writer, but especially as a fantastic interpreter whose weathered touch adds bite and weight to her work. She’s already been a well-established writer and solo artist for a decade now, but this feels like a new beginning, and I can’t wait to hear more.
It feels weird going from taking a defensive position for a lesser-received project from an artist, only to end up feeling like you’re just barely on the outside looking in with one of their best-ever received projects the next time around. But in the end, when said artist arguably boasts the strongest and most consistent run of albums in the modern age, does it really matter? Especially when it’s, you know, still excellent?
No. 4 - Jason Isbell & The 400 Unit, Weathervanes
Favorite tracks: “King of Oklahoma,” “Cast Iron Skillet,” “Volunteer”
After hearing Jason Isbell fight for stability through the majority of his 2010s work – and especially on a frayed project from this decade in Reunions – it’s nice hearing a project where balance is found, even if there will always be struggles and obstacles beyond his control; it gets easier, but it never gets easy.
If nothing else, Weathervanes is an album that feels like Isbell’s most ambitious in years, sporting not only some of his best-ever writing, but also a more experimental palette across the board in how loose and sprawling it feels otherwise – no doubt a strength of him taking the production reigns this time around. But it’s also emblematic of Isbell’s philosophy as a whole: Even at the darkest points, you just keep fighting and going, if not for yourself than for the people you care about. And if that’s where his winds of change are blowing … well, he’s as consistent, measured, and empathetic as ever, and I don’t think one can ask for too much more.
Once more, let’s run through more songs from albums not featured here:
From Damn Love, “Silver & Gold,” by Kip Moore: Hey, Kip Moore made a War on Drugs song, and given that he’s got good instincts with this brand of ‘80s-inspired rock, it works really well!
From Lucky, “Girl in the Mirror,” by Megan Moroney: A cutting look at an abusive relationship, and with a sad twist, too.
From bon aqua EP, “the devil,” by Stephen Wilson Jr.: Sometimes even pure, primal resonance can work to add weight to a song as vague and checklist as this one. If he pushes more in his lane with a sharper lyrical focus, we could have something special on our hands.
From Religiously: The Album, “Fix’n to Break,” by Bailey Zimmerman: I like this guy more than most, though while I still think that debut album shows the limits of his reach, this is the crowning jewel of that potential thus far.
From Glory Days, the album title track, “Glory Days,” by Chapel Hart: A sweet, optimistic, 2000s-sounding track that reminds me of what I’d hear on country radio when I was a kid. They’ve caught a breakthrough, but they should be so much bigger.
From Barroom Mirrors, the album title track, “Barroom Mirrors,” by Erin Enderlin: Ugh, Erin Enderlin’s weirdly staggered release schedule will never not frustrate me, so even though this is technically a song from 2021 … well, it took revisiting it this year to really appreciate its slow-burn sorrow.
And finally, from Sweet Western Sound, “Kindness,” by Tanya Tucker: Just a warm, tender song that fits the sentiment well. I’ll take anything and everything we can get from her these days.
We’re down to the final stretch!
The best part about this gig is taking a chance on something new to you and having it blow you away. It’s even better when it happens with an artist’s debut project:
No. 3 - Jordyn Shellhart, Primrose
Favorite tracks: “On A Piano Bench Getting Wasted,” “Who Are You Mad At,” “Tell Your Mother I’m Fine”
Jordyn Shellhart’s Primrose has likely made for my favorite discovery of the year thus far, but it’s a tough album to outright recommend, given how its ethereal baroque pop-country sound likely won’t click for everyone. At least for me, though, it’s a shimmering listen stacked with great hooks, punctuated all the more by the dynamic echo and frustration that cuts through some very open, uncomfortable, and complex songs here. It’s an album where the scars noticeably run deep yet out in the open, and that’s what makes it feel all the braver as an album, on its most personal moments and its most empathetic ones. It’s heavy, but there’s so much to be in awe of throughout, which is one reason I do urge everyone to check it out regardless.
I’m surprised how much this next album has stuck with me. Admittedly, it’s campy as hell and is probably all the proof I need that I’m growing older and out of touch. I didn’t say that bothered me, though:
No. 2 – Robbie Fulks, Bluegrass Vacation
Favorite tracks: “Angels Carry Me,” “Momma’s Eyes,” “One Glass of Whiskey”
Look, given how idiosyncratic Robbie Fulks is as an artist, it shouldn’t come as a surprise that his latest project is a love letter to bluegrass: one that’s full of heart and flat-out fun, hilarious, and energetic from beginning to end. If anything, I think that alone makes it one of his most accessible projects.
But I think to leave it as just as a lighthearted affair or side pivot would also undersell how much it also carries some of Fulks’ best-ever writing, where the gentler touches in sound overall only highlight those crushing emotional blows all the further. It’s an album that honors tradition but also is delivered exactly the way Fulks remembers his musical upbringing, bringing in an eye for detail that’s as warm, mischievous, and empathetic in its storytelling as ever. And that, above all else, is why it shows the true breadth of all bluegrass can offer. It’s a long-awaited return that feels like a rejuvenation, and it never fails to brighten my day with every revisit.
It feels somewhat strange calling this my favorite album of the year thus far, given that it’s intended simply as an overdue companion project to one of my favorite albums of the 2010s. But when you’re dealing with an artist who’s knocked out so many classic releases across the decades and seemingly only sets the bar higher and higher for himself and his band, it starts to makes a whole lot more sense. Either way, it’s the one album this year I can put on and let fly and be transported to another time and era, and I can’t think of what could be better than that:
No. 1 - Marty Stuart and His Fabulous Superlatives, Altitude
Favorite tracks: “Time to Dance,” “Nightriding,” “Country Star”
The more I listen to Altitude, the less I see it as a mere companion project and more as its own beast. It never aims to capture the high-octane, grandiose splendor of its predecessor, to be sure, but there’s something to be said for much more relaxed and easier this album is to revisit. It’s still rooted in that ‘60s-era blend of honky-tonk and psychedelic rock and is just impeccably produced, textured, and varied throughout, but this feels more like a casual stroll through time that’s still a blast throughout. Subtle, but so effective in riding those big, roiling grooves for all they’re worth.
Even despite its few darker moments, though, it feels looser and more sprawling, ready to revel in every moment and just act as an experience like no other. Whether it’s chasing big dreams as a traveling country star of yesteryear or simply just filling that void of personal loneliness, Altitude is all about the thrill of the hunt. And whether said hunt leads to personal fulfillment in the end or not, it’s still a journey worth preserving in some form. Basically, it’s temporary solace one will likely come down from after the album ends, but that ride is worth it every step of the way. And for me, it’s the album that’s provided the best kind of thrill this year thus far, with the bar now set sky high. If anything else can gain ground with it as we move into the second half of the year, we’re in for something special.
What are your favorite albums and songs of the year thus far? Be sure to reach out and let me know!
The Musical Divide 