Woodland Review: 10 Exquisite Songs of Love and Loss

Traditional music brims with themes of wild weather and woe, and it seems life sometimes imitates art. This rings true for Gillian Welch and David Rawlings, a duo of singing guitarists renowned for their dedication to old musical forms.

Over their 30-plus-year career, the Nashville-based couple has garnered three Grammys and numerous other accolades. While they often collaborate, they do so under separate names. Their latest endeavor is a duo album named after their studio, Woodland. In March 2020, a tornado tore most of the roof off Woodland just as Covid hit, putting both their equipment and their master recordings at risk. Amid that crisis, the couple and their tour manager fought through a tumultuous night to save a lifetime of work using failing iPhone torch lights. That same year, Welch and Rawlings released a quarantine covers album, _All the Good Times_, aiming to provide comfort and perspective during the upheavals of that difficult year.

For fans, the wait between albums can be long. Yet, following the tornado, the pair released a stream of rarities and outtakes, delivering three _Boots No 2: The Lost Songs_ volumes in quick succession. _Woodland_ marks their first release of new, original material in 13 years. Rawlings’s last solo album, _Poor David’s Almanack_, came out in 2017.

Approximately 100 songs, initially considered for two albums, were trimmed down to ten exquisite tracks for _Woodland_. True to form, the album is steeped in Americana, blending the duo’s customary stripped-back treatment with lush orchestrations. Rawlings’s guitar work graces the tracks sparingly but elegantly.

One of their standout qualities has been their ability to witness bleakness with compassion.

Several songs on _Woodland_ reflect contemporary America. In _Hashtag_, a brief mention of “Covid” captures the essence of the times. This track merges the old and new, featuring a country song’s perspective on social media and paying tribute to musician Guy Clark, an early champion of the duo who passed away in 2016. Rawlings sings, “You laughed and said the news would be bad/ If I ever saw your name with a hashtag,” adding, “Singers like you and I/ Are only news when we die.”

Other losses permeate the album like rot through wet beams. _What We Had_ is a mournful duet about the unsettling nature of change, focusing on a lapsed love. Rawlings’s tender high register in this track is reminiscent of Neil Young. _Here Stands a Woman_ stands out by reflecting on aging, referencing the folk song _Danville Girl_, popularized by Woody Guthrie and Bob Dylan.

Recent past upheavals resonate through the album. Welch’s work has always intertwined the present with period vernacular. However, _Woodland_ unmistakably bears the marks of recent times. In _Lawman_, she starts with a nod to Lead Belly’s _Bring Me a Little Water, Silvy_, then recounts a lover’s death at the hands of the police.

Despair at the state of the union is palpable in _The Day the Mississippi Died_, the album’s geographical and spiritual centerpiece. Named after the river that symbolizes unity between the north and south, it begins cheerfully with fiddle contributions from Ketch Secor of Old Crow Medicine Show. But the final verse references _Blue Tail Fly_, evoking the era of slavery, describing a bug bite that causes a horse to throw its enslaver to death.

Welch carefully navigates social faultlines before turning her agonized gaze to “Kensington,” likely referring to the Philadelphia neighborhood notorious for opioid addiction. Here, she laments the “tears, the nightmare years, where madness goes unchecked.” In light of this, the drying up of the river’s nourishing waters feels deeply symbolic.

A remarkable quality of Welch and Rawlings is their ability to witness bleakness with compassion without oversugaring the pill. Not even they could end this thoughtful album on a hopeless note. _Howdy Howdy_, the closing track, is a barely disguised ode to the couple’s enduring partnership and the bluegrass standard _Spider Bit the Baby_. Though they walk through a “lonesome valley,” they continue walking it together.

Source: The Guardian, The Observer