Hailing from Oklahoma, in 2013 Fullbright was nominated for a Grammy Award for 'From the Ground Up' and for Emerging Artist of the Year by the Americana Music Association. The following year, he won the Oklahoma Music Hall of Fame Rising Star Award. And then he all but dropped off the radar, just playing occasional local gigs.
Eight years on, tossing the self-imposed arbitrary rules that constricted his writing and recording, he’s back with his much more collaborative third album (fellow Tulsa musicians include Jesse Aycock, Aaron Boehler and Paddy Ryan), an often playful collection of melodically infectious Americana but laced with insightful observation on what it means to be human in the modern world.
It opens with a smile, the piano ballad ‘Bearden, 1645’ being named after an Okfuskee County map reference in and the song a love letter to his favourite chord progression:
Because it always resolves It starts a little sad from the get go. And gets happier as it evolves. I found that if you’re feeling down it can help you. If you’re feeling lost it can ground you. And if you can’t say it you don’t have to.
And his piano:
C is my key, it’s my favourite. I have a hard time with the black keys. But sometimes I try something different.
And in both cases the arrangement demonstrates exactly what he’s talking about. It’s witty, clever, irresistible and rounds off with a line about finding your personal comfort blanket:
Everybody needs something they can cling to. A place for happiness to bring you. I got a piano I can sing to.
Things take a musical swerve with ‘Paranoid Heart’, slow fingerpicking giving way to electric guitar and a steady beat, with its theme of self-improvement that again draws on musical imagery:
If I start coming up short I twist my voice until I reach the note We’ll keep the medicine close Now and then double up the dose.
And penitence:
I want to be kind But I’ve been out here running ragged staggering blind. And every time I get close I hold my breath until the seams all show.
As, calmed by love, the urgent chorus declares:
I will never speak your name if it’s not out of love again.
It’s back to sparse piano for the cracked soaring vocals of ‘Stars’ as, consumed with despair, he finds epiphany in faith:
I’ve seen stars before…I’ve looked up and felt sorrow like I was alone But tonight I looked up…And I felt like I was something In the eyes of God as he smiled… I’ve found out that love was just God Almighty. And that love burns brightly Just like stars up in heaven To remind us that love means That nobody dies alone.
Another standout, the bluesy swaying title track with its hints of Randy Newman moves back to complement piano with drums, harmonica and electric guitar for a resolve to be a better man:
You wake up in the morning You take a sip of shame But I ain’t sipped nothing Since I woke up today. And all I can think to do right now Is to get down on my knees and pray… If I could learn how to swallow pride Like I learned how to swallow wine I’d be doing so much better.
But confessing the need of a crutch to get there as, with all the sincerity of an alcoholic lying to himself, he sings:
I’m in need of stronger hands To pour me out the door. God grant me whiskey And I won’t lie no more.
A feeling of being lost:
This world was never never made for me.
And meaningless:
We’re just a rock In outer space.
Prompts another search for salvation in the slow walking paced, pedal steel-laced, ‘Unlocked Doors’ (a studio version of the track on his live debut), summed up in yet another strong chorus hook of:
But all the scores of unlocked doors I lost myself in front of It seems I’m always rescued in the end. And if I’m found in front of yours With a broken heart and nothing more. Would you open up that door and let me in.
He closes the first half with the jaunty old school country-coloured ‘Where We Belong’, an upbeat recollection of the good old days:
Don’t forget about the nights Don’t forget about the shots we took in the dark And the walks in the light.
The warm memories and the wish to rekindle old flames:
I’ll always remember the first time you kissed me. Guess I just want you to miss me Every now and then. But I’ll be around if you ever change your mind because love’s where we belong.
The core melody borrowing heavily from Steve Earle’s ‘Devil’s Right Hand’, the second half kicks off with the chugging rhythm and ringing guitars of ‘Social Skills’, another wryly self-deprecating number about needing a liquid crutch to function:
Some people suffer from a social stage fright Like the world is a sniper with a bright spotlight. You can hide behind a curtain You can hide behind a mask Or stand in the center with a high-ball glass. So I drink this gin and I take these pills just because I don’t have social skills and nothing ever suffers but the liver and the soul.
The mood shifts with the piercingly sad ‘Lucky’ which, tinged with shades of The Band, sketches the story of a young woman lost in a life of casual sex in a search to find love:
Love was a ride She climbed inside And everything that she held dear It’s suffered, Lord, and died… Inviting new pain Like moths to a flame That burns a hole inside Until it can’t hold love again.
Fullbright again demonstrating his way with a knockout chorus in:
And she’ll sleep with you if you’re lucky If you’ve any luck at all Though she won’t be true you’ll be lucky You’ll be happy to fall. Don’t question her tomorrow Don’t ask about her past Some stories don’t have morals Some endings come too fast. Some endings come at last.
Set to a carousel waltzing piano melody, ‘Blameless’ continues on a theme of frustrated emotions:
Please do not leave me departed Finish the work that you started. Don’t leave me some half-painted dream. Tell me why She takes all the love that I give her. Flows down the path like a river Throws my love out to the sea.
Delivering a crowd-friendly sway along chorus in:
Jesus What do we say when they leave us Why don’t they ever believe us. Do they know not what they do. Blameless. They say cupid’s arrow is aimless But I’ve got some names on this blame list. And they all point their fingers at you.
Channelling the wordless call and response style refrain of ‘Minnie The Moocher’, driven by pounding discordant piano, organ and a lurching rhythm ‘Poster Child’ plays like a continuation of the story in ‘Lucky’:
She said I always fall in love with those That never seem to try As she sucked down another shot of Canada Dry.
But here through the lens of the male narrator:
A mediocre maestro With his mutilated friends
The former poster child of the title, and his path of dissolution:
He used to make it thunder He used to make it rain But now it’s just the water As it dashes down the drain.
It ends, first, those Newman echoes back in play, for the late night bluesy electric piano confessional ‘Safe to Say’ that finds the peace sought throughout the album
If I’m still here And you’re still there And I’m not going anywhere I’d think it’s safe to say I’m in love.
But on the last track, the New Orleans barroom blues ‘Gasoline’, he can’t help contemplating everything going up in flames as he asks
When you sleep do you sleep uninterrupted When you wake is it all that you dreamed.
Concluding on the lines:
This world needs a girl with a heart so black and mean Like good whiskey needs gasoline.
The question being do you drink and burn or abstain and thirst?
When he dropped out, Fullbright was on the cusp of becoming a major star. With ‘The Liar’, one of the year’s best, it’s safe to say he’s returned to take the crown.