Jackson delivers on ‘Angels and Alcohol’
Alan Jackson once again proves capable of finding fresh wrinkles in his comfortable, familiar style. His new album, “Angels and Alcohol,” delivers good-time honky-tonk, emotional country ballads and gentle, philosophical tunes about the enduring strengths and occasional difficulties of life.
From the spiritual truths of “You Can Always Come Home” to the escapist fun of “Mexico, Tequila and Me” to the hard-won insights of the title cut, Jackson serves up another set of songs that extend his remarkably consistent body of work.
Jackson wrote seven of the 10 new songs by himself. As usual, he selects outside material carefully; one of the best is Adam and Shannon Wright’s “The One You’re Waiting On,” a steel-drenched, melancholy song about a woman left to fend off others while waiting for a date that is either late or not showing up.
As Jackson, 56, evolves into standard-bearer status, he moves into the latter stages of his career with the steady artistry of his heroes Merle Haggard and George Strait – that is, he continues to create new work that suggests he’s just as in touch with his muse today as anytime in the past.
- by Michael McCall
Associated Press
Sometimes Jason Isbell’s words work best on paper, because that’s how it goes with homophones.
“I thought that I was running, too, but I was running from,” he sings on a bouncy paean to the pursuit of happiness on “If It Takes a Lifetime.”
But even without liner notes, the lyrical depth of “Something More Than Free” is easy to appreciate. Isbell finds fresh approaches to such topics as pledging allegiance, pulling up roots and blue-collar blues, and matching his thoughtful words with alt-country arrangements leavened by an occasional string section or guitar solo.
The former Drive-By Trucker gives voice to hard truths, such as on “Children of Children,” which sums up the toll of teen pregnancy in four bars.
“I was riding on my mother’s hip … all the years I took from her just by being born.”
On “Palmetto Rose,” a South Carolinian wrestles with his state’s complicated heritage, which shows Isbell is a troubadour in touch with his times. The song’s homophones are ho-hum, but when Isbell mentions Civil War lore, he uses a bodacious synonym for baloney.
- by Steven Wine
Associated Press

