ALBUM REVIEW: Nothing Is Gonna Stand In Lydia Loveless’ Way Again
Corbie Hill
Posted On September 20, 2023
For many people, their late 20s and early 30s are a messy time. The type of messy — job, love, family, spirituality, overindulgence — is almost immaterial. It’s the overwhelming sense that they should have their footing by now. Life goes one way, but things seem to be moving in another.
This was Lydia Loveless not too long ago, swamped by the emotional turbulence that infuses downcast breakup album Nothing’s Gonna Stand in My Way Again. It’s epitomized on songs like “Runaway” in which she sings, “Every time I go to the airport / I try to miss my flight…Every time I drive on the highway I wanna jerk the wheel to the right.” It’s a harsh, direct look at suicidal ideation and the roughest moments of a collapsing relationship. With synthesizer wobbles, sparse piano and pedal steel accents, “Runaway” is equal parts ’90s-tinged country lament and melancholic synth-pop.
As a songwriter, Loveless is unafraid throughout Nothing’s Gonna Stand in My Way Again. From her records to her whistleblower role against Bloodshot Records’ former owners (a new version of the label released this album), Loveless has been consistently fearless for years. On a breakup album, it makes for an intense listen.
The songs on Nothing’s Gonna Stand in My Way Again are structured like Americana numbers, but Loveless’s lyrics nestle snugly in shoegaze-educated production. “Toothache” sounds like a driving Heartbreakers tune, while “Do the Right Thing” is a concise, jangly power pop number, vocal harmonies and all. Loveless gives her lyrics — and her remarkable voice — room to stretch on spacious tunes like standout track “Feel.” “I’m getting older and my jets are starting to cool,” Loveless sings over sprawling shoegaze textures. “If I ever get sober it’s really over for you fools.”
The central tension of Nothing’s Gonna Stand in My Way Again doesn’t resolve, but it’s not supposed to. It’s an album about the claustrophobic stuck-ness of an awful situation. The closest there is to a proper breakup song, for instance, is the excellent “French Restaurant,” but even that one is trapped in the moment of a big public fight. If there’s a light at the end of the tunnel, it’s too distant to be relevant. This is a depressing record, set in the moment a heartbroken woman aims toward the heart of a storm, not necessarily to reach the other side, but because it’s all she can see.
