Earle says goodbye to his son as only he can
“J.T.” (New West) by Steve Earle & the Dukes isn’t Earle’s first tribute to a songwriting hero. In 2009, the Texas troubadour put out “Townes,” a mournful paean to Townes Van Zandt. A decade later, he honored Guy Clark with the spirited celebration “Guy.”
“J.T.” is more poignant. It honors his son, Justin Townes Earle, who died of an unintentional drug overdose in August.
Released Jan. 4 to coincide with what would have been the younger songwriter’s 39th birthday, “J.T.” recasts 10 stellar songs from the nine albums Justin Townes Earle released in his lifetime, plus one new Steve Earle original.
J.T. Earle is the rare artist who chose to work in the same idiom as a highly accomplished parent — in this case, storytelling Americana — without any difficulty establishing his own identity or betraying any anxiety of influence.
He had his father’s talent and strong will, and like his dad, he struggled with addiction. On “Mama’s Eyes” in 2009, he sang: “I am my father’s son / We don’t see eye to eye, and I’ll be the first to admit I’ve never tried.”
Later, they reconciled. In “J.T.’S” notes, Steve Earle writes, “I loved Justin Townes Earle more than anything else on this earth.”
Recording the album, he says, “was the only way I knew how to say goodbye.” With his longtime road band, he takes an energetic interpretative approach to his son’s songs, kicking stellar tunes like “Harlem River Blues,” a song about suicide, into high gear, as if taking the time to linger would have been too painful. The closer, Steve Earle’s own “Last Words,” sets the pair’s final conversation to music. It’s a heartbreaker. ★★★½
Dan Deluca, Philadelphia Inquirer
Margo Price
Perfectly Imperfect at the Ryman (Loma Vista)
On her mid-2020 studio album, “That’s How Rumors Get Started,” Margo Price shaved some of the sharper country edges from her sound (but not the incisiveness of her writing).
In “Perfectly Imperfect at the Ryman,” released at the end of 2020 but recorded in 2018 at the mother church of country music, she delivers a scorcher of a live set, backed by a full band, a string section and a choir.
She adds some funkiness to her jailhouse lament, “Weekender,” tears through Rodney Crowell’s rocking “Ain’t Livin’ Long Like This” (with Sturgill Simpson guesting on guitar), and borrows from Ike and Tina Turner for a “Proud Mary” that goes from zero to 60.
A “Hurtin’ (on the Bottle) Medley” combines that song of hers with Merle Haggard’s “Last Night the Bottle Let Me Down” and Johnny Bush’s “Whiskey River” for a terrific salute to country’s drinking-song tradition. She and Jack White ham it up through his “Honey, We Can’t Afford to Look This Cheap.”
Quieter moments such as “Wild Women” (with Emmylou Harris) and “All American Made,” with their commentary on gender and social issues, highlight how Price has carved out her own space in country music. And for all the fire here, she closes with a quiet confessional, “World’s Greatest Loser.” ★★★½
Nick Cristiano, Philadelphia Inquirer
Healy
Tungsten (Braintrust/rca) “Don’t call it a comeback,” sings Memphis-based rapper and singer Healy on his second album. “I call it a second wind. Good to be back in my element.”
Whatever it is, it’s welcome.
This eclectic artist returns with just over 30 minutes of new music on “Tungsten.” With Ethan Healy — who goes by his last name when performing — you have hip-hop, indie rock and acoustic elements colliding in unpredictable and exciting ways.
One song might have a skittering drum line with drowsy vocals, and another might just be Healy heartfully singing 12 computer-distorted words over and over in a song snippet punctuated by his falsetto. There’s a thrilling experimental edge to his music, like what Mac Miller sounded like at the end.
Clocking in under three minutes is the superb “Nikes On,” a lament about how time is moving fast. And “Back on the Fence” is a dreamy, helium-filled piano-led tune with Swedish artist Becky and the Birds.
Ambient sounds have always attracted Healy. Birds chirping, train whistles and the jingling of car keys appeared on his first full-length album, “Subluxe,” in 2017. This time there’s water running, planes flying and snippets of conversation.
“Tungsten” is a more somber affair, with most of the songs looking backward and inward with unease. “Now look inside the mirror and see my nemesis,” he sings on “Back in Time.” On the outstanding “Second Wind,” he repeats, “Gotta get outta my mind.”
His smart lyrics — he references both Brutus and Möbius strip — are delivered with dexterity. “If seeing’s believing, I think I’m diluted / I mean dilated / I mean belated / Man, I didn’t proof this / I practice aloofness.”
He might be aloof, but that doesn’t mean you have to keep your distance from Healy. ★★★½