Jason Isbell, Foxes in the Snow, and a Revival
"You can be very honest without telling the truth, at least in art." - Jason Isbell. Except this time, I think he is.
For the past few weeks I’ve been in an asymmetric conversation with Jason Isbell.
His voice has been in my ears while I run from my home to the ocean and back. He brings a willingness to witness his own imperfect reflection with acceptance and hope.
Listening to Foxes in the Snow has felt like being in a single-act film loop: I’m standing in a crowded room with a beautiful high ceiling with well-dressed people and voices fill the space. On the other side of the voices, I feel someone watching me. I recognize him. He doesn’t know me. I smile a Mona Lisa smile and look down and away. I hear the question in his eyes, and I think. "Yes, I do know."
Like in Southeastern, the purity of a his single voice and acoustic guitar is leveling. He is human. He has done some fucked up things, but he is not a fuck up. This man has learned to love himself and he is going to be ok. He oozes "WHAMM" energy, what my friend, the author of Substack’s The Midlife Edit calls Wounded Healers Acting with Meaning & Maturity.
In "Bury Me", the first song, I can feel the homage to Gillian Welch's Revival. This intro could actually live on that album. Then, for the next 38 minutes, Foxes in the Snow becomes its own resurrection starting with death, ending with hope: crackling with raw truths he's brave enough to say and then moves on from.
My favorite song is "Gravelweed." The way the chorus melody breaks through like sunlight is a chef's kiss 🤌🏼 transition moment in the collection. To quote the great Homer Simpson, he "says the quiet part loud and the loud part quiet." He admits in full daylight, how he handed over his agency to someone else, outgrew this person (apologies Amanda), and is actively distributing that power back to himself. And somehow we feel empathy because he is so damn honest about about what he needed in the moment and where he is now. This chorus melody "… Cleanses you know. Washes dirt away, makes new..." But that's even older than Revival. If you know, you know.
At first I didn’t like the song that follows: "Don’t Be Tough." It felt like a lecture and the repetitious structure and melody bored me. But then I realized what I'm sure everyone else did a week before me: Oh, he’s talking to himself. It's a meditative self-reparenting mantra that burns in life's most important lessons including "Feel your feelings and know you will be ok." His sense of self-worth and deep appreciation for his own resiliency is hot. There, I said it.
Jason is a songwriter’s songwriter.
The Midlife Edit asked for good WHAMM examples and I offer to him, and you all, Jason Isbell. In the post linked above, my friend cleverly proposes graphing a midlife identity ego structure using a set of dimensions. He calls it the EDGAR (Ego Domination and Growth for Awesome Reflections) Chart. It’s genius. I'm guessing Jason doesn't subscribe to his Substack yet, although I’m sure as a well-styled middle-aged dad he’d love it, so for now I'll fill it out for him - he can correct me later.
Here’s the WAG on the EDGAR Chart for Jason Isbell based on publicly available info and our asymmetric conversation:
Career: 10 (high x health, deeply integrated, not over-identified)
Kids: 8 (Any dad that re-books his concerts around Frozen Junior when his daughter plays Anna gets at least a 7)
Worldview: 9 (clear, brave, values-driven - thank you for making space on-stage for women songwriters like my hero, Alice Randall)
Stuff: 9 (excellent fashion sense, great shoes, tailored everything, he sings about bad lighting - ahem, I might literally be the most qualified person to help you)
Friends / Social: 6 (band-as-family, emotionally tuned, guessing this one took a hit post divorce)
Physical Appearance & Vitality: 7 (intentional care post-sobriety, great haircuts, killed it at the Ryman show I saw in October - see evidence top of page)
Hobbies & Interests: 4 (music as vocation dominates; less clear outside that, suggested growth here: design, architecture, and lighting)
Partner: 4 (complex and moving on, deserves someone that truly gets him someday - likely winning candidate would be a great fit for either Tim Ferriss or Jason Isbell. I'd like to be friends with that woman - I am certain we would get along.)
The chart below shows a mature, WHAMM-ready shape: some high, healthy stakes; some tender edges; and a life lived with emotional awareness and meaning.
The question now
is not what he'll do next (spoiler alert: write some of the best songs of the decade and play his guitar), or how many awards this album will rack up (answer: so many). The question is: When you’ve burned it all down and told the truth, what do you design in its place?
Well done, future friend. See you at the Grammys.
Love the application of the EDGAR chart!