Most of us, when we encounter a homeless person, instinctively look away. Singer-songwriter Becky Warren chose instead to look closer, to wonder about the stories of the men and women she met on the streets of Nashville, and then to ask them about the how and the why that led them to where they are today. <\/p>\n
The end result of Warren\u2019s compassion and curiosity is an album that never preaches or wallows, only illustrates in direct and honest terms the reality of the lives she encountered. Undesirable<\/i> is a triumph in every respect, an engaging, empathetic and at times rousing song-cycle that feels like a novel composed of 11 linked short stories. These stories are populated by distinct, artfully sketched characters whose lives and flaws and joys and pains Warren brings to life against a backdrop of confident, powerful roots-rock that\u2019s equal parts Lucinda Williams and Tom Petty, while at times achieving the sheer impact of early Springsteen.<\/p>\n
As a songwriter, Warren is clearly unafraid to tackle difficult subject matter. Her 2016 debut album, War Surplus<\/i>, was an equally resolute examination of the damage done by war, a subject matter Warren was intimately familiar with as the ex-wife of a soldier who came home from Iraq suffering from Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. In turning her attention to the homeless, Warren wisely chooses not to lecture the listener with 11 tales of woe; instead she crafts a series of naturalistic, multilayered, completely gripping character sketches. The themes addressed are unsurprising\u2014alienation, loneliness, dysfunction, addiction, and abusive relationships\u2014but Warren elevates the conversation with narratives that are smart and genuine and unflinching, capturing each character\u2019s essential humanity while providing context for their lives and choices. <\/p>\n
As potent as the music is\u2014courtesy of Dan Knobler (guitars & production), Jeremy Middleton (bass & additional production), Jason Burger (drums), Jeff Malinowski (acoustic guitars), and Danny Mitchell (organ & keys)\u2014it\u2019s the lyrics that elevate this album from great entertainment to simply great. Every single song had at least one line that took my breath away.<\/p>\n
\u201cMy bones are tired, but my heart\u2019s an unpinned hand grenade\u201d sings Warren in ringing opener \u201cWe\u2019re All We\u2019ve Got,\u201d a rich portrait of a character who\u2019s stripped away every piece of her life that didn\u2019t work until all that\u2019s left is herself and her street community, \u201ca pile of forgotten forget-me-nots.\u201d One detail after another feels authentic and can\u2019t-look-away wrenching on a track that features harmony vocals from friend and mentor Amy Ray of Indigo Girls.<\/p>\n
Nostalgia overtakes the frustrated barfly narrator of \u201cNobody Wants To Rock And Roll No More,\u201d whose four-on-the-floor, guitars-on-eleven arrangement is all bruising, ironic charm. Still, the best moment lyrically might be the very last couplet of the song: \u201cNow all of those girls went and moved uptown \/ They\u2019re driving the carpool and looking worn down.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDobbs Avenue\u201d bats third, a languorous, liquid blues shuffle that cuts a slice of life that feels as real as a rainy Sunday morning out on the boulevard. It\u2019s beautiful and brilliant and achingly sad in an off-hand, undramatic way; you feel like these are people you saw yesterday or last week or last month, and tried not to look too long, because it hurt too much. \u201cI\u2019ve made peace of this life of mine,\u201d her haunted narrator sings, \u201cBut you never cross my mind \/ You just hang there all the time,\u201d as the reverb-heavy guitar magnifies the ache in her voice. <\/p>\n
\u201cSunshine State\u201d opens up with bright chords and a bit more urgency, a tale of one ex-con reaching out to another. \u201cMichael it\u2019s me, I can\u2019t believe I finally got your phone number \/ Took three shots of Beam and a pool hall queen to get it out of Fat Jay,\u201d Warren sings, painting a picture that would make a young Springsteen tip his cap and bow. The scene she\u2019s setting couldn\u2019t be more vibrantly alive, as the poetry flowing from her pen just keeps coming. \u201cWe didn\u2019t know a thing about regret then \/ Living with the savagery of dead men\u2026 Did you serve it out always thinking about the twenty years you put me in for? \/ Nevermind, I don\u2019t wanna know the answer \/ That kind of thing will kill you like a cancer.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI swear I\u2019m givin\u2019 up on ever bein\u2019 sad again,\u201d Warren sings in the bouncy, arcade-styled \u201cCarmen,\u201d whose narrator fantasizes about finding a \u201clittle blue house\u201d and settling down, another damaged person full of hopes and dreams but with no idea how to get from here to there. \u201cHighway Lights\u201d again evokes Born To Run<\/i>-era Springsteen with a tale of a marginal character who\u2019s \u201cOlder than I ever thought I\u2019d be \/ Sleeping \u2019neath the auto parts store marquee\u201d as the highway lights pour across the nearby billboards.<\/p>\n
In case you aren\u2019t blown away yet, \u201cHalf-Hearted Angel\u201d arrives with the coup de grace, a stark, crushingly beautiful ballad whose narrator shares her story with brittle candor. \u201cYou know what they say about half-hearted angels like me \/ We spend all our nights pinning hopes where our wings used to be.\u201d \u201cYou\u2019re Always Drunk\u201d offers a change of pace, a tight, witty 2:11 honky-tonk kiss-off that repeatedly generates laughs from a situation that in reality isn\u2019t funny: \u201cDon\u2019t know where I\u2019m going \/ Just somewhere without your face \/ I\u2019ll sleep in a phone booth \/ It\u2019s better than this place \/ Where you\u2019re always always always always\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n
This far in, you might anticipate a drop-off in quality, but it never comes. In fact track nine, \u201cLet Me Down Again,\u201d contains the very heart of this album in its improbably catchy chorus: \u201cNobody\u2019s ever \/ Gonna be someone \/ Who can up and let me down again.\u201d How do people end up homeless? The details may vary, but so many of the stories seem to come down to running away from some kind of disappointment, a deep hurt that fuels distrust and isolation. <\/p>\n
Penultimate track \u201cValentine\u201d takes the perspective of a parent left behind by a runaway child, holding onto an old photo: \u201cHalf the shot is turning white now \/ Like it\u2019s been sitting in the sun \/ But she still blazes like a larkspur \/ Just barely twenty-one.\u201d As a parent, this one tears my heart clean out. Warren finishes strong with a visit to \u201cThe Drake Motel,\u201d bouncy guitars and rhythm section contrasting sharply with another potent, unmerciful lyric: \u201cI don\u2019t know how much more of my own heart I can take \/ Rolling around the city all day like loose change \/ I stay up at night and play your memory on repeat \/ It\u2019s the only song that kills the lonely.\u201d <\/p>\n
Undesirable<\/i> is lit up by the stark beauty of the characters its author describes, never judging, simply chronicling with a novelist\u2019s eye the fundamental core of humanity that even the most bruised and beaten down among us retains. Becky Warren celebrates that undeniable spark with a record that\u2019s both a terrific batch of Americana, and a genuine work of art. You need this one like an addict needs a fix.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":12,"featured_media":33745,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"artist":[10330],"rating":[5646],"class_list":["post-45566","review","type-review","status-publish","has-post-thumbnail","artist-becky-warren","rating-rating-a"],"acf":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/dailyvault.adishjain.in\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/review\/45566","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/dailyvault.adishjain.in\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/review"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/dailyvault.adishjain.in\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/review"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/dailyvault.adishjain.in\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/12"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/dailyvault.adishjain.in\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=45566"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/dailyvault.adishjain.in\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/review\/45566\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/dailyvault.adishjain.in\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/33745"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/dailyvault.adishjain.in\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=45566"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"artist","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/dailyvault.adishjain.in\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/artist?post=45566"},{"taxonomy":"rating","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/dailyvault.adishjain.in\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/rating?post=45566"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}