Kathleen Edwards Rekindles Past Americana Vigor With ‘Billionaire’ (ALBUM REVIEW)

In 2002, the roots music world was abuzz when singer-songwriter Kathleen Edwards released her debut, Failer. Granted, Edwards spent a decade away from music, but nothing she has released since has measured up to that album. Billionaire has just changed that. Her acute lyrical bent, honesty, and flair for hooks have returned. She is the sole songwriter on eight of these ten and the co-writer on two others. So, the words are all essentially hers. Yet, she undoubtedly benefits from the counsel of her two co-producers, Gena Johnson and Jason Isbell. Isbell also plays electric guitar throughout the album, and Johson chips in on select tracks. Isbell taps his 400 Unit drummer Chad Gamble and bassist Anna Butteres, part of a formidable lineup that includes keyboardist Jen Gunderman and backup vocalists Allison Moorer and Shelby Lynne.

The title may be viewed somewhat tongue-in-cheek. Billionaires are typically scorned these days, but Edwards says we should all want to be accumulators of joy, life’s rich experiences, and great friendships. It’s the idea of being rich in a non-monetary sense. Yet, the themes of these songs do touch on politics, bitter memories, and breakups, subjects often found in singer-songwriter fare. Yet, Edwards is a compelling, oft-witty storyteller and adept painter of characters. 

The heavily strummed opener, “Save Your Soul,” is aimed at the corrupt who feel that money cures all. Isbell takes a searing guitar solo while also playing keys on the driving tune. In the loping “Say Goodbye, Tell No One,” she rails against those who can’t face up to the truth with the cinching line, “The hardest part about a lie/You can’t outrun it if you try.” Edwards and Isbell trade fiery guitar lines while the wailing background chorus includes Isbell, Moorer, and Lynne. The acoustic “Little Red Ranger” paints the character portrait of a Canadian musician friend translocated to L.A., as she reveals her Canadian roots with references to hockey and the Toronto Maple Leafs. There’s an especially chilling sequence that suggests the ‘home boy’ is in over his head and susceptible to demons and a life of excess as she sings, “Big old smile you got a heart of gold/Channeling the spirit of Rick Danko’s ghost/Driving your little red ranger.”  It’s likely just coincidental, but Isbell penned the haunting “Danko and Manuel” when he was with the Drive-by Truckers.

Jangling guitars and Gunderman’s swirling organ imbue “When the Truth Comes Out,” yet another tune focused on lies and betrayal. The soundscape shifts toward a mix of strings and resonating electric guitars in the title track, which is simply a love song, comparing her feelings of joy to the currency equivalent of a billionaire. Here, and throughout the album, Edwards’ vocals are vibrantly strong, framed beautifully by the accompaniment, whether driving hard or in a more sensitive mode.

 “I Need a Ride” rocks hard with Edwards and Isbell on the electrics, and it’s one of the more interesting songs lyrically. The initial impression is that too many people are prone to criticize, only to find out that at some point, they will need a favor from the object of their criticism. Read a little deeper, though, and she is railing against current immigration and deportation.  She expresses regret in the standout “Little Pink Door,” taken in one take only, accompanied by Isbell’s roaring electric guitar, her acoustic guitar, and Gunderman’s piano. Edwards cleverly turns the common phrase of “I love L.A.” to her fondness for Florida in “FLA,” that fondness stemming in part from her love for Tom Petty’s  (“A blonde boy from Gainesville”) music.

Edwards and Isbell strap on their axes for the brief “Other People’s Bands,” as she takes a shot at those who aren’t grateful for opportunities bestowed on them. Closer “Pine” is the prototypical yearning for the ex, warts and all. As she’s done on some other tracks, she layers her own for the background vocals. Like they do throughout, Edwards and the band shine.

We can celebrate that the Kathleen Edwards we fell in love with two decades ago is back, and she sounds even better than we might recall.