It's a tale as old as time: a man and his guitar. To be specific, a mahogany Martin 0-17 acoustic from 1940. This is the chosen instrument that guides Jason Isbell's latest endeavour, Foxes in the Snow. Known for his storied collaborations with the 400 Unit and Drive-By Truckers, Isbell returns with his first solo album in the decade since 2015's Something More Than Free. Recorded over five days at New York's Electric Lady Studios, it's the singer-songwriter's inaugural acoustic full-length.The album opens with Isbell's a cappella vocals cutting through the silence, singing of being buried "where the wind don't blow" with such softness and conviction that it at once mollifies any fear of mortality. (Not bad for a few lines.) The acoustic guitar kicks in shortly after, drawing listeners closer and signifying our arrival at the singer's figurative hearth. Foxes in the Snow is just that: an intimate fireside chat with one of Americana's most revered singer-songwriters. The terrains of love, loss, longing and hell — God Himself holding a beer — are traversed with the ease of a discussion between old friends.Once more, Isbell teams up with Nashville-based producer Gena Johnson, who previously worked on Weathervanes and Reunions. Garnering many accolades and awards, Johnson's golden touch has made her eagerly sought out by industry talents like Chris Stapleton, Dolly Parton and the late John Prine. Isbell and Johnson's shorthand cuts to the crux of what makes Foxes in the Snow so successful, its bare bones unmarred by over-production.While popular music has embraced a period of maximalism, Isbell recalls the romanticism of a pared-down approach, effectively making the staying power of his lyricism the focal point. Whether he's describing listening to someone's butchered rendition of Steely Dan's "Kid Charlemagne" ("Open and Close") or pulling up to Nashville honky tonk Robert's Western World amongst the bachelorettes on a Friday night ("Ride to Robert's"), Isbell deftly situates the listener within his world.It's easy to see how his talents for capturing a moment, delicately preserved in amber, have rubbed off on a generation of musicians. Acts like the Red Clay Strays, Wednesday, MJ Lenderman and Waxahatchee have all found inspiration in Isbell and his contemporaries, who write and rewrite the evolving story of America's South with their personal histories cleaving to the very clay beneath their feet ("I can't seem to keep myself away / So I head back to the crimson and the clay," he sings on "Crimson and Clay," an ode to his home state of Alabama).Like anything Isbell touches, Foxes in the Snow is canon. He remains one of the few songwriters who can capture the indelible marks we leave on one another ("Good While It Lasted") with impressive verisimilitude, plumbing the depths of human emotion in a mere quatrain. Even at his most didactic ("Don't Be Tough"), he comes across as an old friend gently leading the way. The lessons are hard, but that's life. Lines like "Feel the pain and feel it pass" and "Let love knock you on your ass" could be construed as clichés by some, but not when sung by Isbell. Only he can make it gospel.
Wavelength
Rate and discover music with friends
