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At the beginning of last year, I fell hook, line and sinker for Lance Cowan’s SO FAR, SO GOOD debut album. A warm, intimate, and multidimensional portrait of a mature singer-songwriter, he offered a uniqueness like no one else with an open honesty of purpose that was beguiling. Emotionally perceptive, this follow-up contains the same melodic ease as his debut, resulting in similar waves of comfort. Made up of entirely original material, it offers a series of heartfelt narratives that derive their storylines from adventures and exploits of those who dared to pursue their dreams and on the other side of the coin, the heartbreak of those who found relationships difficult to hold on to. Accompanied by an astute group of musicians, who contribute to its tones and textures, resulting in a record that resonates and reflects in equal measure. This, then, is a decidedly emphatic set of songs—earnest, engaging and, in most cases, rife with an exhilaration and enthusiasm that connects convincingly, even on an initial encounter.
Lance Cowan has the poet’s heart that’s evidenced in the songs themselves, be it the reflection and reminiscing shared in “One More Chance,” the western imagery that graces the story of “Will Belinda,” the regrets expressed in the rousing “Ragged Edge Of Nothing,” or the forlorn feelings found in songs such as “I Can’t Stand The Winter,” and the simply titled “More Or Less.” The latter is a triumph of texture and mood. Todd Smith’s piano augmented by Cecilia Heurta-Lauf’s haunting cello is just so brilliant. “I Can’t Stand The Winter” is wistful enough to summon a few tears before morphing into a melancholic groove; and the lush “One More Chance” moseys by like a daydream.
The good-natured approach to “Old King Coal,” a miner’s lament that belies its up-tempo trappings, is a powerful indictment of the Kentucky coal-mining communities with an easy-going singalong chorus that’s quite at odds with a bleak miner’s life. He sings “Against the Grain” with the kind of laid back, campfire swagger that lends itself well to this light-hearted yarn. Choogle down a river of dreams with Captain Philo Jones, so nice and easy that everyone floats up to the tie-dyed sky above the Kansas plains of amber waves of grain. It all hangs together brilliantly, even as he sails through life against the grain. Dan Dugmore’s weepy pedal steel licks feel just right as Lance sings the regretful refrain of “Goin’ South,” a familiar sentiment for any who’ve left home to find oneself without any plans or clear-cut goals. His delivery is like a lighter, breezier Don Williams and every sound you hear on this song is nigh on perfect.
The ethereal, lullaby-like closing number, “Love Anyway,” speaks to the personal and political turmoil generated by the times without being overtly topical as the lyrics tells us that ‘love’ is the best hope for change in this bewildering, angry and divisive world of ours. A continuation of both form and thought, Lance Cowan has delivered a masterpiece, a guided tour through a rootsy tapestry of sound that will make any listener feel totally at home. A beautiful collection of intimate songs, the mixture of light and shade makes each an engrossing, riveting listening experience.