I’ve been following Lydia Loveless since her first CD The Only Man was released on a tiny independent label in 2010, through all of the lazy comparisons to Loretta Lynn and Neko Case, to her signing to major indie Bloodshot and her subsequent releases there, 2011’s Indestructible Machine and the 2013 EP Boy Crazy. Everthing that has come before has been pretty impressive for someone who started cutting her first record at 17, but Loveless has made a quantum leap with her latest on Bloodshot Somewhere Else. She has matured remarkably as a writer, a musician and a singer, and it shows in every aspect of this album.
For me, the heart of this impressive album comes right in the middle, in the powerful hat trick of “Hurts So Bad,” “Head,” and “Verlaine Shot Rimbaud.” Coming like a breather after the album’s opening four rockers, “Hurts So Bad” is a down-tempo, soulful crawl. It showcases both Loveless’s strong songwriting and singing, as she drawls her pain in Springsteen-esque half-spoken, verbiage-packed stanzas: “I’ll just smoke cigarettes and stare at the wall like it was a TV, just like I did when I turned 17, that’s how you make me feel, baby.” Those kinds of lines remind you that Loveless still remembers what it felt like to be 17, while the melodic chorus lets you know that she has studied the classics, including of course the Little Anthony & the Imperials hit by a similar name.
Next up is “Head,” which she has described as “a really sad song about oral sex.” I’d say it’s a sad song about a love that has petered out, excuse the pun. Her voice captures multiple layers of emotion and meaning while retaining all of the subtlety that’s possible in a rock song. The middle guitar solo, which is apparently played by Loveless demonstrating some newfound prowess, also captures that angst mixed with pleasure. It’s a truly excellent song on all levels.
Then there’s the delicious ballad “Verlaine Shot Rimbaud,” which can’t help but make me think of Dylan and the whole romantic Greenwich Village scene. Loveless doesn’t layer this one with irony, though, just makes it a wailing ode to obsessive love, the lyrics again tumbling out of her in a cascade that won’t fit in any meter or rhyme scheme: “I just wanna know that I’m the one that makes you write that shit, make you so angry that you leave and you come crawling back to me on your knees …”
You might very well be more strongly drawn to other songs, like “Really Wanna See You,” Loveless’s take on the classic drunk-dialing song, a classic rock song with country accents and lyrics full of her trademark self-deprecating sass and bittersweet longing; or the sweet, poppy heartland rocker “Wine Lips,” with the tight harmony vocals from guitarist Todd May; or “To Love Somebody” with its insistent guitar hooks and her poetic punk yowl full of defiance and quavering half-doubt, a delivery that’s Jim Morrison by way of Roy Orbison and Chrissy Hynde.
Or the slow burn of the title song, as seen in this live performance video.
And then there’s the singer-songwriter soul of “Everything’s Gone,” a devastating cry of the loneliness that comes from the kind of obsessive commitment that an artist makes to her craft. Or from any person who longs to escape the confines of home and then deals with homesickness the rest of her life.
Somewhere Else reveals a Lydia Loveless no longer captive to genre expectations of the marketers and critics, she and her band (May, bassist Ben Lamb and drummer Nick German) combining country, soul, rock and pop elements with the confident swagger of an outfit that has faced all kinds of audiences, from barrooms to festivals, across the U.K., Europe and North America for the past two years. It is a strong enough album to be released in February and still end up on plenty of year-end best-of lists.
(Bloodshot, 2014)
