Album Review: Jason Isbell - Southeastern

Long-awaited local release for an album of simply great songcraft and storytelling, that comes with a rare plain-speaking honesty.

For those who came in late, Jason Isbell was the guy who worked out songwriting-wise three was indeed a crowd in the damn fine Drive-By Truckers, so went on to make a couple of pretty good country-rockist albums with his own The 400 Unit, before cleaning up some personal bad habits, and stripping it back to this conversational and confessional directness.

While Isbell sometimes refers to his previous weaknesses, it's not with the self-righteousness of the recovered, but more a reflective realisation of what an arse he was. Elsewhere, he's blunt – the cancer-riddled subject of Elephant drunkenly raging against the dying of the light, but undercut with a wit and affection as he still tries to sing along with the old country songs he plays her.

And then there's love. Here's a man who's tired of Travelling Alone, and is finally able to admit it. Or being stuck in Stockholm and remembering “I've heard love songs make a Georgia man cry…” and knowing why.

But whether it's that kind of open-hearted candour, the little details of the Songs That She Sang In The Shower, or even moments of Americana gothic like Live Oak or Yvette's murder ballad, Isbell's way with words – and the delivery of them – make Southeastern a record that will beckon you into its little worlds, and make you feel them. Magnificent.