"I was raised to be a strong and silent Southern man:" Jason Isbell and the Power of Relatability
This was the summer of Jason Isbell for me. I find my connection to his surprising at my age and life state--and think that how relatable I find Isbell's songwriting explains my obsession.
Today I’ll briefly turn away from baseball to address something personal. Why was I irrationally excited to see Jason Isbell in concert this summer?
Don’t worry. I’ll be back to baseball very soon.
On August 1, y’all watched Framber Valdez toss a no-hitter. I watched none of it, as I was attending a Jason Isbell concert here in New Jersey. No regrets.
I was amped for this show for months in advance, really from when “Death Wish,” the first single from Isbell’s new album Weathervanes was released. I only increased my anticipation when the full album was released in June. I listened to Weathervanes almost daily leading up to the concert and other Isbell tracks with great frequency.
And it led me to the question—why am I making such a big deal about this? The answer I’ve found—relatability. Isbell writes songs that are specifically relatable to me and who I am at this point in my life.
The Top of My Favorite Genre
Part of what has surprised me with my 2023 infatuation into Isbell is that I’m not a huge music guy. I like plenty, but it is usually something I have on in the background rather than taking up my full focus. Being so attached to a single artist is unusual for me.
With that being said, my musical tastes are highly influenced by the six years I spent in grad school in Austin in my late 20s and early 30s. It introduced me to a number of the singer-songerwriter Americana and alt-country types that have become my favorites (e.g. Lucinda Williams, Patty Griffin, Ryan Adams) and gave me greater appreciation for others in that genre (e.g. Willie Nelson, Lyle Lovett, Uncle Tupelo).
Isbell currently sits as the top of that genre. So from that standpoint, it makes sense to me that I’d be into Isbell. But I’m into him more than that framework suggests.
Some of my infatuation with Isbell has to do with discovering an artist later in life. As a 50-year old man, I’m no longer truly seeking out new music and am exposed to less of it in conversation. And parenting means often ceding the car radio to my 10-year old. That means something really has to stand out to break through to me today. Isbell does. But why?
Relatability
But I think the thing that makes me most into Isbell’s music—the thing that propelled me to spend months prepping for seeing him in concert—is the relatability of Isbell.
Some of that is straight representation. Like me, Isbell is a middle-aged white man, and that of course affects the perspective of his song writing. Like me, Isbell is a southerner by birth and raising, and, like me, has both an appreciation for his Southern roots and the South’s essential contributions to this best things about America,1 and a frustration with the South’s essential (and continuing) contributions to the worst things about America.2
And like me, Isbell married well and has a deep appreciation for this feet. Isbell’s best song in my opinion is “If We Were Vampires,” a love song based on the premise that the potential of death—and that one partner will leave the other by dying first—creates the need to do relationships well. It’s not a song about the newness or thrill of love. It’s a song about marriage—the need to do work to make it work and to appreciate the hell out of your partner. It’s a song about the maturity of love. And as man married for 13 years now, man, do I relate to it.
Some of this is style. Isbell’s music is thoughtful, and as a guy who spends his free time writing detailed research pieces about baseball on the internet for free, that’s a style that works very well for me. It’s something I want from my music.
And of course, Isbell plays guitar based music focuses on melody over the rhythm section. It is music to groove to, rather than dance to, and that fits my preferences on the type of music I like.
It adds together to a set of lyrics and song writing that feels to speak directly to me. This is best encapsulated in his song “Middle of the Morning” off Weathervanes where Isbell sings “I ain't used to this, seein' everybody's hand/I was raised to be a strong and silent Southern man.”
I too was raised to be a strong and silent Southern man. Well, not fully. Not as much as my father, who is not as strong and silent as my grandfather. But that thread line runs through to me—emotions are something I’d like to avoid. And I’ve glommed on to ways to steel myself against it. And like Isbell, I notice when this gets interrupted.
Isbell’s song writing and lyrics stand out to me as quite relatable. I can see myself in the songs he writes and the lyrics he crafts.
Of course, one key element of good song writing to get the listener to highlight the similarities rather than focus on the differences. The song “Middle of the Morning” is about the narrator trying to get distance from his family—both physically and emotionally—during the COVID lockdowns. I was not as “in my feelings” as Isbell’s narrator here, but can identify the parts of my story that intersect with his.
Or in “King of Oklahoma,” Isbell’s character is an out-of-work construction worker who has turned to stealing copper from worksites to fund his pain-pill addiction. Not me in any way, and yet, the character’s longing is to get back to the days of his successful marriage—relatable.
Why am I an Isbell fan? He’s able to make his song-writing accessible to me in a way that others can, but he does better than anybody else.
There is another reason that may explain why I’m so into Isbell. I write about sports. Isbell has developed a strong following among sports writers, and it is both written about and joked about online. Maybe I’ve gotten into Isbell more in recent years because I’ve began this Substack and well, one has to follow the other.
Of course the person who has most noticed the connection between Isbell and sportswriters is Isbell himself. He once jokingly said on Twitter that “I speak to sportswriters of all ages.”
Isbell leaned in hard to that image by getting his superfan Wright Thompson—quite likely your favorite sportswriter’s favorite sportswriter—narrate the trailer for Weathervanes.
According to Thompson, Weathervanes is “Isbell’s latest collection of grown-up songs. Songs about adult love, and change; about the danger of nostalgia and the interrogation of myths…life and death songs played for and by grown-ass people.” Again, I can relate to that.
“Some will make you cry alone in your car.” Close. In my home offoce.
“And others will make you sing along with thousands of strangers in a majestic old theater.” Yep. I did that.
See, I’m a sportswriter.
I live in the north. God, these people needed Southerners (and Italians) to move up here to teach them how to cook.
It’s not a short list, but racism would be at the top.
Thanks - hadn’t heard his music before but I’m liking what I’m hearing!
Thanks for this. Terrific analysis