When
Dawn Landes released
Sweet Heart Rodeo in 2010, she was married to fellow singer and songwriter
Josh Ritter. In 2011 that marriage -- which lasted 18 months -- came apart. His account appeared on
Beast in Its Tracks and in press interviews.
Landes remained silent and kept busy as an engineer and performer. Bluebird is her divorce record. It's an intimate ten-song set crafted with her characteristic melodic and lyric flair. It was sparsely co-produced with
Thomas Bartlett (aka
Doveman), who also plays piano and keyboards. Rob Moose plays guitars and strings, while
Tony Scherr and Catherine Popper alternate on bass. Little more than 30 minutes long, the album is drenched in an airy Americana that allows the poignancy in its songs to resonate naturally. Nothing here is heavy-handed. The title cut's melody and pace are cheery, yet the lyric metaphor contrasts considerably. "Try to Make a Fire Burn Again" is direct. Its lithe fingerpicked guitars and whispering keyboards and bassline paint a stiletto-pointed rhyme: "Don't think I'm gonna understand...Don't you wanna love me all over again...Don't you wanna see me, mistreat me/Try to make a fire burn again." The very next track, "Bloodhound," is midtempo bluegrass dressed in witty, sharp-tongued anger. "Heel Toe" is an electric country waltz about moving on cautiously, balancing desire with vulnerability and openness. "Cry No More," one of two tracks with
Norah Jones' harmony vocals and piano, is tender yet determined in its resolution. In relaxed 4/4 time, these women's voices wind through one another's with elegance and warmth. On "Love Song," with
Jones' piano filling and accenting strummed guitar lines,
Landes sings "...I can't count on anything but the day and night/I wanna write you a love song with my life...." The words drip from her mouth clear as water, without an unnecessary syllable.
Jones' harmony underscores the notion that truth is so transparent, it doesn't tell, it shows. On "Home,"
Landes and
Bartlett deliver a waltz to frame a lyric expressing profound loneliness. It begins as a prayer and ends with the need to transcend it, albeit expressed in an empty room. Given that this is the songwriter's account of a life-altering event, she delivers these well-crafted songs with dignity, grit, and grace, sans regret, remorse, or self-pity. Bluebird is a finely wrought record about healing and the steps it takes to get there. [Bluebird was also released on vinyl.] ~ Thom Jurek