Few things get me as excited as hearing that one of my favourite artists has decided to make an album with a producer whose every release feels like a small event.
I’ve been following Kevin Morby since 2022, when he played a small stage at the OPO Festival, touring This Is a Photograph (I’m still keeping my fingers crossed for the return of that wonderful small festival). On that record, an artist previously known mainly for his acoustic folk songs embraced a louder, electric sound. He had ventured there before, but never to quite this extent. Comparisons with Bob Dylan’s own evolution are entirely fitting, and Morby’s distinctive delivery and poetic lyrics only strengthen the connection.
Morby also makes sure each of his albums has a clear concept behind it. On This Is a Photograph, he grappled with his fear of death. In search of inspiration, he travelled to Memphis, following in the footsteps of figures including Jeff Buckley. The beautifully arranged A Coat of Butterflies features the sound of water recorded at the spot where Buckley drowned.
Little Wide Open, meanwhile, turns its attention to the Midwest - the rugged stretch of America reaching from Nebraska to Ohio. Some time ago, Morby and his partner Katie Crutchfield, who has been making her own mark on the indie rock scene as Waxahatchee, settled in Parkville, a town of just under 8,000 people. “Music is everywhere here - cicadas buzzing in the trees, a passing train, a siren warning of an approaching tornado,” he said in a recent interview.
How do those influences translate to the record? Enter Aaron Dessner, The National’s composer and guitarist, whose production credits at his Long Pond studio include albums by Taylor Swift, Ed Sheeran and Florence and the Machine. On Morby’s album, Dessner not only produced but also played most of the instruments. He brought Justin Vernon into the studio too, adding vocals to the opening track.
Dessner isn’t the kind of producer who steers an artist in an entirely new direction, as Nigel Godrich or Flood might. Everything he works on carries something of The National’s atmosphere and sensibility, and this album is no exception. With its guitars and drums, the beautifully unfolding opener Badlands could easily sit on the Ohio band’s latest record. The same goes for the distinctive guitar buzzing in the background of All Sinners, or the wall of sound that closes 100,000. Is that a criticism? For anyone who enjoys the music of Matt Berninger and company, certainly not.
Besides, while Dessner’s presence is unmistakable, he never takes over. The focus remains on Morby’s songs, and he is in excellent form here. There is plenty for fans of gentle folk - Die Young and the title track are ballads that already sound like classics of the genre - as well as those who prefer the drive of a song like Rock Bottom. The single Javelin (do watch the video) and I Ride Passenger should satisfy the latter.
What I admire most about Morby is the high standard he sets for his lyrics, and this album is no different. Listening to Little Wide Open, I kept being caught by a striking line, such as “and if time plays tiny violins / then we play symphonies through the centuries” from All Sinners. Occasionally, the writing slips into cliché, as on the breezy Javelin, but across much of the album, Morby paints a compelling portrait of the region he now calls home: “In the big disaster we call home / Where God could be a dog / Barking in the night.”
This is easily Morby’s best album to date. It may be a little too long - losing one or two of the quieter songs towards the end would have helped - but that remains a minor complaint. What matters most is that, eight albums in, he sounds like he is only just hitting his stride.