JASON ISBELL : WEATHERVANES

JASON ISBELL AND THE 400 UNIT : WEATHERVANES

Death Wish
King Of Oklahoma
Strawberry Woman
Middle Of The Morning
Save The World
If You Insist
Cast Iron Skillet
When We Were Close
Volunteer
Vestavia Hills
White Beretta
This Ain't It
Miles

Label : Southeastern Records

Release Date : June 9, 2023

Length : 60:31

Review (AllMusic) : Jason Isbell's music rarely suggests that Bruce Springsteen is a major influence on his work, but since he hit his stride with the brave and brilliant Southeastern in 2013, he's grown into one of the strongest and most important artists in American rock, perhaps not a peer of Springsteen's, but certainly someone in the same worthy tradition. Like Springsteen, Isbell is a superb guitarist and songwriter with a keen eye for the details of working-class lives and an intuitive understanding of his part of the world, with a band that's every bit as gifted as he is. Isbell also shares Springsteen's belief in the value of hard work and the need to challenge himself, and just as his then-newfound sobriety pushed Isbell to up the creative ante with Southeastern, 2023's Weathervanes finds him shaking things up a bit to keep himself sharp. Isbell produced Weathervanes himself after regularly working with Dave Cobb from Southeastern onward, and if the sound of the album isn't radically different, the feel is leaner and more direct while still full-bodied and richly detailed. Isbell confidently takes the lead but makes room for some striking, soulful interplay with his band, especially guitarist Sadler Vaden, and they gently push one another into some of their finest work to date, especially on the seven-minute closing track "Miles." From his first recordings with the Drive-By Truckers, Isbell's talent as a songwriter has been a given, and he's applied his skill in the service of songs that reflect the challenges and uncertainties of the larger world with a tighter focus each time he goes into the studio. In some respects, Weathervanes feels like his Born in the U.S.A. -- on the surface a brilliantly crafted rock album with anthemic melodies and outstanding performances, but one that also speaks eloquently about the high stakes of American life. It's not as glossy as Born in the U.S.A. and it's built from rootsier materials, but it's every bit as well-made, and his songs of working-class addiction ("King of Oklahoma"), the aftershocks of mental illness ("Death Wish"), the struggle of what to do in a world going off the rails ("Change the World"), and even the personal anguish of daily life ("Middle of the Morning" and "This Ain't It") are not the grandstanding of a well-meaning sloganeer, but the observations of a man who has labored hard not to remove himself from the world he writes about, regardless of his success. Part of the subtext of Isbell's work from Southeastern onward is gratitude that he's been given the chance to do better work as a healthier man, coupled with the responsibility not to waste his opportunities on trivial themes. Both of these ideas are present on Weathervanes, as is his ability and drive to make music worthy of his fans' high expectations. This LP is a triumph, an outstanding set of songs and performances from someone who has already proved they're one of the strongest, truest voices in American roots rock.

Review (Pitchfork) : Jason Isbell and the 400 Unit launched their supporting tour for Weathervanes, Isbell’s eighth collection of original material, three months before its release, a tacit admission that these songs were built for the long haul. An exacting craftsman, Isbell constructed Weathervanes with tunes that benefit from familiarity: They’re filled with open spaces for a band to explore on stage. On record, these songs reveal their intricacies slowly, the measured, almost leisurely pace suggesting that Isbell is confident that his audience will stick with the album as they learn its subtle pleasures. The calm breeze blowing through Weathervanes comes as something of a relief. As portrayed in Running With Our Eyes Closed, a recent documentary that chronicled the making of Reunions—the album he released at the dawn of the COVID-19 pandemic in 2020—Isbell sometimes treats his craft as a burden, a trait that can carry some personal pitfalls. During those sessions, he sometimes appeared consumed with the prospect of living up to his own high standards, a worry that sparked marital strife between Isbell and Amanda Shires, the singer-songwriter and fiddle player who occasionally doubles as a member of the 400 Unit. Shires is credited as a guest performer on Weathervanes, the same billing that harmonica player Mickey Raphael, a legend from Willie Nelson’s Family band, receives for his spot on the lovely “Strawberry Woman.” Though he’s worked with producer David Cobb since 2013’s breakthrough Southeastern, Isbell produced Weathervanes himself (Matt Pence provided additional production on a handful of tracks). He chooses to emphasize performance as much as the songwriting, a decision that shines a light on the 400 Unit’s chemistry. Weathervanes has its share of intimate moments, such as the gently rolling “Strawberry Woman” or “Cast Iron Skillet,” where the understated acoustic setting makes the narrator’s misguided life lessons (“Don’t drink and drive, you’ll spill it”) all the more unsettling, especially when Isbell murmurs, “That dog bites my kid, I’ll kill it.” The 400 Unit excel on the quieter songs, conjuring the ghost of John Prine on “Volunteer” and Bruce Springsteen at his most reserved with the subdued train-track rhythms of “If You Insist.” Still, they sound best when they crank up their amplifiers, relying on texture as much as volume. Take “Death Wish,” where the band vamps on a minor-key riff, ratcheting up the tension as Isbell’s narrator sounds increasingly desperate. They pull off a similar trick on “Save the World,” which is as urgent and disturbing as a news bulletin. As Isbell struggles to process his thoughts in the wake of learning about another school shooting—“Balloon popping at the grocery store, my heart jumping in my chest/I look around to find the exit door, which way out of here’s the best”—the 400 Unit accompany his emotions by playing with controlled anger. Weathervanes’ unsettled moments wind up making the sun-bleached vibe of the rest of the album feel earned: It takes some effort for Isbell to relax. That mellow feeling is crystallized by how “Middle of the Morning” cannily crosses Van Morrison’s “Into the Mystic” with the Allman Brothers Band’s “Midnight Rider.” Such nods to Isbell’s forefathers are deliberate: “When We Were Close,” his salute to the late Justin Townes Earle, is propelled by a riff that recalls Tom Petty at his most Floridian; it comes within spitting distance of such wild-eyed Southern boys as .38 Special. Isbell and the 400 Unit aren’t revivalists, though. They specialize in synthesis, blending styles and eras so they feel familiar yet fresh, a trick encapsulated by “This Ain’t It” and “Miles,” the pair of open-ended, open-road jams that close the record. Weathervanes itself sounds forged from the endless miles the 400 Unit have logged over the past decade: It’s a snapshot of a band humming at cruise altitude, keeping focus not on the destination but the journey.

Review (Brooklyn Vegan) : There's a great moment in the new Jason Isbell & the 400 Unit documentary Running With Our Eyes Closed about the song "Dreamsicle," a song inspired by Jason's parents separating when he was a child, and both of his parents discuss how real and authentic his songwriting is, and how all the vivid references to small details like poison ivy, broken glass, and a folding lawn chair are all actual references to Jason's childhood. Then Jason quips, "Dave [Cobb] still thinks the song is about ice cream." It's a reminder of how naturally Jason blends symbolism, metaphor, and other poetic tools with real-life storytelling, which is a huge part of what's made him one of his generation's most impactful songwriters. He avoids clichés, and he never writes to fit in with a certain trend. He always writes directly from the heart, and he knows how to take those real thoughts and observations and emotions and turn them into something that his increasingly large fanbase can sing back to him. That's exactly what he does on "Death Wish," the lead single and opening track of his new album Weathervanes, and one of the best songs he's ever written. It has the painstaking lyricism of a song like "Elephant," and it's as anthemic and propulsive as a song like "24 Frames." The first thing you hear when you click play is Jason himself asking, "Did you ever love a woman with a death wish?" Later, he turns his attention to that very woman and adds, "I don't wanna fight with you baby, but I can't leave you alone." Even if the rough patches in Jason and Amanda Shires' marriage hadn't been publicized in both Running With Our Eyes Closed and Amanda's 2022 album Take It Like A Man, the song would hit like a bag of bricks. It's a detailed portrayal of a person in love with a partner who's suffering, and wanting to be there no matter how difficult it gets, even when "you know she's not bluffing, 'cause you feel it in your bones." The culmination of it all: "I wanna hold her until it's over." The trailer video for this album (narrated by ESPN’s Wright Thompson) promised that "some [songs] will make you cry alone in your car, and others will make you sing along with thousands of strangers in a big summer pavilion or majestic old theater, united in the great miracle of being alive." "Death Wish" is both. It's remarkable to think that, over 20 years since Jason first joined Drive-By Truckers and 10 years since he released his breakthrough solo album Southeastern, Jason is still searching for something creatively, still trying to write better songs than he wrote last time or the time before that, and succeeding at doing so. Every Jason Isbell album is an honest portrayal of where he is at that point in his life, and that's why every Jason Isbell album brings something to the table that the others can't. Weathervanes is no exception, and "Death Wish" is just the beginning. Jason marries nostalgia-inducing imagery and gentle acoustic arpeggios on the quietly gripping "Strawberry Woman." He reckons with his Southern upbringing over a Southern rock backdrop on "Middle of the Morning." "Cast Iron Skillet" turns passed-down, everyday wisdom into something much deeper over some simple yet lovely acoustic guitar chords. Jason's longstanding ability to sing about a dead loved one and make you feel like you knew them personally shines on "When We Were Close," the album's hardest-rocking song. "Volunteer" tells the story of a broken man from a broken home whose parents died in a car crash when he was still young, and it's devastating to hear Jason and Amanda harmonize on it. Like Jason's last album Reunions, Weathervanes ends with a song that sounds inspired by Jason and Amanda's daughter, and it's also a sprawling, seven-minute song that sounds like the 400 Unit's version of a Crazy Horse epic. "Death Wish" is the album's big bang, and if there's another song as show-stopping as that one, it's "Save The World." Jason's become known for his strong, leftist political stances--and, given the Americana-centric circles that make up a sizable chunk of his audience, he's often not preaching to the choir--and "Save The World" tackles the issue of school shootings with some of the most impactful songwriting on this entire record. It never feels obligatory, it never feels like he's touching on this stuff to seem topical or relevant. Like the songs that deal with inner demons, childhood trauma, and relationship issues, Jason is singing from the heart, and it builds to one of the biggest, most satisfying choruses on the album. With 13 songs that clock in at an hour, Weatherwaves takes its time. It takes risks, it asks for your patience. Some songs knock you out on your first listen, others are growers. It's a noticeable contrast from its predecessor Reunions, which was one of Jason's most immediate albums to date, and Jason has earned the right to make an album like this. He's cultivated an audience who will give Weathervanes the time it deserves, who will listen to it from start to finish and then play it all over again, and they'll do this in an era in which asking people to choose four albums with "no skips" can become a viral tweet. It's been six years since Jason asked the world if he's the last of his kind, and whether he is or not, he keeps winning because he keeps leaning into exactly who he is. You can't fake the kind of honesty that albums like Weathervanes provide.