ALBUM REVIEW: Gregory Alan Isakov Lets Sounds Swirl on ‘Appaloosa Bones’

“I set out to make a folky, small lo-fi rock ’n’ roll record,” Gregory Alan Isakov says in a press release of his approach to Appaloosa Bones, his sixth studio album. That the result is an atmospheric soundscape layered like clouds gathering before a storm suggests he changed his mind along the way. As the press release further explains, “The songs kind of told me, ‘No, this is what it’s going to be.’”

Appaloosa Bones is neither “small” nor “lo-fi.” Instead, it cascades rolling waves of instrumentation. Yet lyrically he is sparse. Inspiration for many of the songs came from Isakov’s early days on the road, traveling in the American Southwest with his band. Whether pondering the human condition from inside the van or letting his gaze pan out across the huge landscapes, Isakov paints his thoughts in musical textures across a gigantic canvas.

A glistening flow of piano, guitar, and banjo opens the album with “The Fall.” Like a dream, Isakov connects the human world to the natural world both spiritually and surreally. “Before The Sun” keeps to Isakov’s original intent for the album, sounding very “lo-fi” as he sings gently “Sand City Bus kicking up dust” to a soft banjo so vividly evoking the road just before dawn breaks.

The title track stretches out that distance as Isakov drawls almost to a murmur, “and the pages slow in the room I called your name.” Both literally and metaphorically in “Miles to Go,” Isakov ponders if he will ever get there. Again, his lyrics are short and to the point in contrast to his sonic muse.

Gregory Alan Isakov (photo by Glen Ross)

“Mistakes” stretches that contrast further with lyrics cut down to almost a chant while the layers of sound billow. In a similar vein, “Watchman” has many layers, from its gentle opening through celestial harmonies to crescendos that verge on the hymnal. “Sweet Heat Lightning” also starts out at a very placid tempo, and the lyric “You drive, let’s see where this ends” reveals a patience that stretches languorously then disappears into an orchestral swirl.

“Feed Your Horses” signs off the album in very understated style, almost as if Isakov is trying to return to his original pledge of simplicity, or perhaps it is his way of returning to life on his Colorado farm. With patience to match the measured tempo he croons, “I’ll feed your horses when you go into town.”

What these songs have in common is their brevity. The longest is just short of five minutes, but this is Isakov’s genius. He turns a short poem into a magnificent piece of music that can captivate for hours.

Gregory Alan Isakov’s Appaloosa Bones is out Aug. 18 via Dualtone Records and Suitcase Town Music.