Too soon to say Wynonna goes Dolly, but it’s her most credible work yet.

TRY A NEW TASTE?

Really? I hadn’t appreciated ATB had got as far as kitschy ultra-polished country pop in its quest for universal eclecticism. Well, worry not, as we still have taste and, yes, why this may still be the same Ms. Wynonna Judd, one of the uber-divas of the aforementioned, this is a side of her hitherto little observed, let alone heard. And it’s not half bad, either.

TIME FOR A CHANGE

Ms. Judd has had enough. Enough, that is, of being the studio processed figure she has spent her whole lifetime as. Starting off in her early teens, she and her mother, Naomi, were The Judds, whose run of 8 consecutive country #1’s remain near matchless. From there, a solo career has seen multiple albums attain platinum status, with her MO tending towards lush and extravagant (over)production, to the extent of making the late Dolly P seem a wallflower. She has also seldom been little more than the next scandal away from a run of high viz headline steals, usually incorporating poor partner and lifestyle choices. The suicide of her mother represented neither, obviously, and clearly hit hard. Time for a change.

A clue here may be her new record label, ANTI-, more usually a home for mavericks and defiant survivors: Tom Waits, Mavis Staples and Wilco have all spent time with the label. Here her previous penchant for orchestration and lily-gilding extravagance is stripped right back, largely courtesy her husband, since 2012, Cactus Moser, onetime drummer for country band, Highway 101. Guesting musicians include Patterson Hood, of the Drive By Truckers ,and Sam Beam, aka Iron & Wine. Sounding a little more interesting? Join me……

A SPUNKY SURVIVOR

It opens with the brief 26 second, Prelude (All Downhill From Ashland), which has the sound of an OST about the burning of Atlanta, all very Gone with the Wind, which is likely symbolic. The actual All Downhill From Ashland then filters in, almost seamlessly, the atmospheric all swooping fiddles and guitar. Judd swoops in with the spunky vocal of a survivor, in full control of her destiny. I had to know: what is Ashland? It turns out to be where she was born, and is a song celebrating her Kentucky roots “burning deep in our blood“, realised in the wake of later adversities. Erring on the acoustic and more bluegrass flavours than make up most her catalogue, it is a solid start.

Everything is completely different, stylistically, a no messing cruise control country rock chugalug, with Patterson Hood. With all the “things” resoundedly “thangs”, it sprawls out marvellously, with bouncy bubbles of bass. A self-deprecating lyric sets out her calling card of bitter resentments, albeit more fuck you than poor pitiful me. Am I Missing Out starts as a 60s style tinkle, a less gothic Jeannie C. Reilly, with brooding steel. Oddly, she sounds more like Macy Gray than anyone her usual side of town. It’s good. The title gives away the lyrical thrust.

SOMEWHERE BETWEEN SURVIVAL & REVIVAL

A woman of faith, in the parlance of her homeland, Broken And Blessed reeks of the chapel and, without context and in another setting, might appear a little glib. However, here, and, placed “somewhere between survival and revival“, it belies the undoubtedly saccharine wordplay, becoming a charming apogee of this sort of confessional. Straying a little into MOR heartland country, Hear Me Now adds rather more strings than necessary. Beam’s vocals add little to suggest this isn’t the most inessential track yet, however hooky it certainly is. One, maybe, more to consolidate her sales figures and reputation.

Back to some roadhouse dance floor bluster for the mandolin heavy rocker, The Hopeful Lie. For this one, the husband and wife duo, The War and Treaty add their characteristic wail and holler, infusing a little southern soul into the mix. The lyrics continue maintain a genuine sense of dear diary, that one of the reasons this disc transcends expectations. The jugband stomp that kicks off Kentucky Queen keeps up the concentration with, then as the drums and some ebullient twang saunters in, becomes almost Little Feat-y in the vibe. By now you’ll forgive her the self-reverential The Girl Who Could Sing, even if fast forward, for only the second time, beckoned. Plus, for this sort of material, she can.

RELISH THAT TASTE

Penultimate track, Drive, is made of sterner stuff, with a progression of whiny steel, that many a cooler singer or band might relish, with a hook that catches. Which sets the table well for her closing statement, a brass-laden country-soul banger, Love Ain’t Got The Best Of Me Yet. The piano and organ interplay is stellar and leaves a lingering residual pleasure that last long after this pleasant surprise of a record has exited the building.

I guess the tipping point will be whether this will appeal to her core audience, MAGA loving, I’m guessing, mainstream America. Or whether enough of the opposition can take to this new direction. But I’m in team Wynonna now, and I don’t care who knows it.

Are you missing out? Here’s Am I Missing Out:

Wynonna: Website

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