Midland
Barely Blue
Big Machine
I put Barely Blue on and close my eyes.
A cowboy (all hat, cattle doubtful) places his hat on his partner’s head as they shuffle on a sawdust floor. Outside this roadhouse, cheap lights strung between poles keep watch on the parking lot. They flicker on frayed cords when a semi truck rolls by.
Midland’s Barely Blue is produced by Dave Cobb, whose touch brings work by Sturgill Simpson, Chris Stapleton, and Jenny Lewis among a long list of others to remarkable levels. It’s the Cobb touch. It’s not unlike Rick Rubin. You just know when he had a part in it.
Grammy nominated in 2018 for “Drinkin Problem,” Midland is no stranger to putting together sounds that please the masses without selling out to the machine. Barely Blue won’t offend anyone. There’s no “outlaw” feeling to it, but it does hit deeper than what I routinely hear if I brave an hour of mainstream commercial country radio. There’s an “Austin” quality to the sound, which isn’t surprising given their roots in the area. Recorded at Georgia Mae Studios in Savannah, Georgia, and mixed at the iconic Apex Sound in Burbank, Barely Blue oozes classic country, complete with mournful steel and just enough fiddle. The album opener, “Lucky Sometimes,” lets you know where things are going. Follow lead singer Mark Wystrach, bassist/vocalist Cameron Duddy, and guitarist/vocalist Jess Carson into an unapologetic throwback with a modern twist.
George Strait fans will get this. Randy Travis fans will feel right at home. Those of us on a steady diet of alt-country and a growing wave of new outlaw artists might wince a little. I did at first, and then I fell in. It’s not an overproduced “Nashville sound,” but a minimal shine on what we know Texas artists are superior at.
This guy is singing about heartbreak and moving on, but he’s not cursing the ex and throwing beer bottles off the deck? What is this? The title track gives us a masculine take on losing love, but with an evolved, non-toxic sincerity.
“And I’m the talk of the town/ and I’ve been making the rounds/ and the rounds have been making me…”
He’s sad all right, but he’s gonna find someone to dance with and be ok.
“Old Fashioned Feeling” is a fantastic play on double meaning. I can smell the bourbon in this one. It’s going to come through on a jukebox somewhere and hit the spot.
Every track on the album is a lyrical gift, wrapped in easy melody and a dance-with-the-lights-low rhythm. It’s not a cerebral album if you’re accustomed to Sturgill Simpson or Tyler Childers going on an existential bend for hours, but it works.
I expect these songs to play well live, too. Fans will know the words. Curious first-time ticket-holders will feel seduced, even if they can’t quite define the elixir.
I dusted off an old cowboy hat and enjoyed the album at face value. Country music by nature is a continuous pensive story packaged in simple chord structure. By reading the room and leaving things uncluttered, Dave Cobb has put Midland in the perfect light.
