Ryan Bingham Sings of Himself and His Country

It feels like Ryan Bingham is a touch underappreciated. Yes, that’s kind of a crazy thing to say about someone who’s won a Grammy, Golden Globe, and Academy Award for one of his songs (“The Weary Kind,” in the motion picture Crazy Heart) and who was named the Americana Music Association’s Artist of the Year in 2010. But after that huge 2009-10 run, a series of crushing personal events, and a struggle with his own identity, Bingham took a step back from the crossover country-rock stardom that looked inevitable.

Since then, Bingham has released two strong albums, 2012’s Tomorrowland and 2015’s Fear and Saturday Night. Both provide deep looks into his psyche, exploring the tragic deaths of both of his parents and his climb out of depression and a period of adjustment to becoming a husband and father.

That journey of self-discovery and realization comes to a climax on American Love Song. Over the course of 15 brilliant tracks, Bingham tells his own story and that of a nation in turmoil, rife with systemic injustice and cruelty toward its most vulnerable. The result is an album that’s an early frontrunner for best release of the year, one that fully delivers on all the potential Bingham first displayed over a decade ago.

Bingham kicks things off with “Jingle and Go.” The sublime, jangly roadhouse rocker tells the story of his early days hustling for gigs across Texas, and in a world where the homogenization of rock radio isn’t a thing, it’s probably a solid radio hit. When considered in conjunction with the next two tracks, the bloozy “Nothin’ Holds me Down” and the “Jumpin’ Jack Flash”-referencing “Pontiac,” Bingham positions himself and American Love Song as a less grimy sonic companion to the Rolling Stones-Leon Russell-early Elton John amalgamation of blues, soul, and Southern rock in the early 1970s.

Bingham’s spin on groove-centric country-rock isn’t just about kicking out the jams or speaking to his own life. There’s a larger sense of purpose that pops up throughout American Love Song.

On “Situation Station,” Bingham turns his attention to the current president and laments:

Well I been thinkin’ ‘bout the situation
How the world is full of frustration
As the president shits upon the nation
Wipes his ass with all denominations
Turns around and begs for donations
Ridin’ on the back of a poor man sellin’ them lies, lies

That message of a nation adrift, escorted further astray by a charlatan president seeking to divide people for his own avarice, is the central political theme expressed by Bingham. He does it when repurposing the phrase “stand my ground” in “Wolves” as a response to bullying he received as a child and the emotions he felt as he witnessed the treatment the Parkland shooting survivors received post-March for Our Lives. And it comes across loud and clear on the stark ballad “America.” Bingham sings:

America where have you gone
Can’t you see what’s goin’ on
Can’t you see what you’ve become.

In the final verse, Bingham pleads, “America, don’t you leave us in the dark / Oh, let our lady light her torch.” It’s a political love letter, a call for the country he loves to take a long look at itself and get its shit together.

The closer on American Love Song is “Blues Lady,” and that, too, is a love letter. This time, it’s a paean to the great female singers he’s listened to in dark times, and most importantly to his late mother. “Blues Lady” is more than just a song of loss, however; it celebrates the human spirit through the women who have helped Bingham, and society-at-large, persevere through real adversity.

It’s a strong conclusion to what is arguably Bingham’s most consistent full-length release to-date.