Appaloosa Bones by Gregory Alan Isakov
Gregory Alan Isakov takes his sweet time crafting his studio albums, molding them into the best they can be. Five years after the release of Evening Machines, he has returned with Appaloosa Bones, another example of the masterful minimalism he exudes through his music. Accompanied by his ethereal voice and symphony of strings, Isakov paints visuals of a sweeping, all-engulfing landscape with his lyrics, a frontier he braves with his listeners throughout the album. Like the desert featured on the album cover, the true charm of this album lies in the negative spaces. The sounds and images conjured by the lyrics are just as powerful as the stories themselves. Isakov is not afraid to give his listener time to stop and ponder his words, or just enjoy the instrumentation. In Appaloosa Bones, Isakov reminds us that beauty is found in simplicity, and that the joy is in the journey.
Isakov breathes life into mundane, describing travelers huddled around a radio and lovers waiting on street corners. He reuses images of stars, fire, and lightning throughout the album to build his world, leaning on his unique brand of soft-spoken folk, subtly drawing influences from Western and bluegrass. Every instrument in Isakov’s band is utilized with orchestral thoughtfulness, from the steel guitar solos of “Miles to Go” and “One Day” to the banjo picking of “Before the Sun” and “Sweet Heat Lightning.” The entire record is sonically cohesive while individual tracks remain impressively distinct and individual; Isakov generates charming, newfangled melodies from familiar and nostalgic instruments.
Most of the narrators on Appaloosa Bones are ‘lost’ in one way or another, though many learn to appreciate the situations they found themselves in. Easy-going travel ballads such as “Before the Sun” and “Miles to Go” drive the album forward, painting pictures of adventurers “sleeping in our winter clothes,” with “lamplight eyes.” The album’s title track is a perfect representation of this nomadic spirit that drives Appaloosa Bones. The narrator expresses concern that he’s lost his mind while out on the road, lamenting that “they haven’t made no pill / to get us ’cross the wintertime.” Between the gorgeous imagery, engaging narrative and voice, and sweeping instrumentals, “Appaloosa Bones” is a true gem in Isakov’s discography that represents the heart of the album. From yearning troubadours to pilgrims in search of penance, every track comes together to craft an opus dedicated to the faceless wanderer in the background of every folk song you’ve come to love.
“Silver Bell” was crafted in the vein of some of my favorites from Isakov, featuring alluring, lovesick lyrics that say so much in so few words. “Annabelle, I’ll be gambling ’til my bones are ’neath the apple field,” the narrator begins his love letter, tying himself and his lover into the world they plan to disappear into. “Finally found us some good luck,” the gambler continues, “let’s see if it lasts.” The beautiful instrumentals shine like the track’s namesake, echoing with an angelic, swaying rhythm.
“Watchman” is already destined to be a fan favorite. It shares the same energy of Evening Machines’ “Caves” and is one of the more lively songs on the album. The steady percussion and repetition of “oh, oh, oh” just beg for a crowd to join in and yell the bridge; “so take me however I seem to be / haunted, I know.” The song is an example of Isakov’s expertise over the genre, knowing there would be no folk album without a foot-tapping chant that can pull a community together. I look forward to screaming this song the next time I can catch him and his band live (which you should do, too!)
Isakov borrows from the cowboy figure throughout the album, but perhaps no song represents this type of familiar longing more than the masterful concluding ballad, “Feed Your Horses.” One of my favorite tracks off the album, it’s a tale of unrequited love, told from the perspective of a man pining for a woman who spends her days searching the city for a lover. As she goes off looking for somebody to care for her, he cares for the things she left behind. “You jump to the ballroom, and the white wedding gown,” he sings, “I’ll feed your horses when you go into town.” Despite his strife, he reminds us that his heart is “ageless,” and that he’ll “wait for you, darlin’, like grain the ground.” It’s a well known story, one that we can picture quite well on the grainy film of a long-forgotten Western movie, and only hope it comes to a happy ending.
The most dedicated fans of Gregory Alan Isakov, as well as the more casual listener, will love and appreciate Appaloosa Bones and stories Isakov has built for it. Clearly written and recorded with care, this new record is a prime example of his dedication to crafting his unique folksy sound that millions have come to love. I highly recommend giving this album a listen and taking time to admire how easily Isakov’s music comes to you like something you may have heard long, long ago.