ALBUM REVIEW: Rod Picott Steers Through Darkness on ‘Starlight Tour’

Rod Picott so vividly conveys the lives of those on the edge, struggling to earn a living or those just too exhausted to carry on. Much of his inspiration is personal; he has lived that life himself. A trademark of his writing are the characters through whom he portrays his vista of bleakness. Starlight Tour is a bit different.

Unchanged is Picott’s relentless melancholy. What is different is his perspective. He looks back at his life but also ponders darkly what lies ahead. With far fewer years to go than have passed, Picott, who lost his mother three years ago and fears for his elderly father, thinks about his own mortality, a theme that runs through the entire album. There is a sense of reckoning but also defiance, grace, and dignity.

Starlight Tour opens with “Next Man in Line,” which sets the scene as only Picott can. Who can’t imagine “Two old dogs sitting on a Goodwill sofa / One wears plaid on plaid / You couldn’t wake him with a Louisville Slugger.” But this is no illustration, this is Picott Sr., once a boxer and now frail. Picott the son knows that he really is now the “next man in line.” The band’s jaunty beat belies such dark thoughts.

Behind Picott on the album is a first-class group of musicians; Lex Price on bass and mandolin, Juan Solorzano on guitars and keys, and drummer Neilson Hubbard who, as producer, pulled the whole effort into a distinct sound. Tight, at times upbeat, these players create the oxygen for Picott to breathe his songs.

“Digging Ditches” is autobiographical. To a bluesy backdrop Picott rasps,”decorated with scars and stitches / guys like me digging ditches.” A dad who says little, mom keeping house, and everyone working themselves to the bone. Picott rams home a sense of inevitability. There is no other life for these folks. From the general Picott knows when to zoom in to the particular. A respite from a life of toil could be that of a “Television Preacher.” In a voice laden with sadness yet with deep sympathy, Picott mourns how these charlatans prey on the vulnerable.

Screenwriter Brian Koppelman and Picott’s long-standing collaborator Slaid Cleaves had written “A Punchers Chance,” then sent it Picott, who put it to music and gave all the boxing references a metaphorical ring — essentially, “Will you take a chance on me?” For “Combine,” which originated with Koppelman, Picott added details that only one who has worked on such a machine could. His intense anxiety about bringing in one more harvest is palpable. With Amy Speace, Picott wrote “Homecoming Queen,” a story of hope and potential that never survived youth. Picott’s wistful vocals outweigh the band’s cheery tempo to ensure a desolate ending.

As Picott admits in a press release announcing the album, melancholy is “my stock-in-trade.” “Pelican Bay” is the tragic story of the total disintegration of a Vietnam veteran’s life. In scarcely more than a whisper, Picott takes the listener right to that seashore, where the vet is all alone, “watching birds dive on Pelican Bay.” Closing song “Time to Let Go of Your Dreams” is by his own admission the saddest song he’s ever written. The character is a 59-year-old singer-songwriter facing up to his life, his work, his aging father, the profound depression he’s suffered, and his future. Leonard Cohen and Tom Waits must be looking down as Picott’s gravely funereal voice and accompanying distant horn seem to signal the end. But it isn’t. Picott ends on hope: He will do things differently because “it’s time to find a new dream.”

Starlight Tour is raw and totally absorbing. Rod Picott has bared his soul to such an extent he rates this one of the best albums he’s ever made. It’s hard to disagree.

Rod Picott’s Starlight Tour is out Oct. 20 via Welding Rod Records.