Jason Isbell – Foxes in the Snow Review

For many listeners, the newest release of any artist will be their introduction. Few will have the time to acknowledge a sparkling new album and head all the way back to the start. Most artists would not want you to, either. Just look at the debut albums of Adrianne Lenker, Bob Dylan, and Pulp, all-time greats in their own ways, who developed a stronger tone as the years went on. They are arguably at their best in recent years, and that comes from what an artist can learn when they truly put their mind to their work. Jason Isbell does just that with Foxes in the Snow, his tenth studio album. Eleven singer-songwriter pieces just waiting to find that person who can feel themselves in the lyrics, rather than project themselves onto the song. That is the key difference between Foxes in the Snow and the Americana folk of the last few years.  

Bury Me sets the scene brilliantly. An opening song worth returning to time and again. Isbell has at once captured the folk fundamentals which formed the genre as an influential powerhouse and the modern sway, the niche it now is. Capturing both with a hearty openness is a treat. We are in a real golden patch for singer-songwriters with honest tones in their music. Covers, originals, live shows. Listeners are spoilt for choice for the first time in a while. Quality heard in the melodic beauty of Ride to Robert’s can be found in similar forms with Willi Carlisle and Savannah Karam. Crucial to Isbell’s style is the soft reliance on cliché. Overhauling those fifths of whiskey and raging moments on Gravelweed is crucial to his sound. He is not playing up to the countrified tones, the inevitabilities of drinking hard liquor to get through tough times. Not in the slightest. Isbell is a sharp writer, and his subversion of those moments is one of his many strengths.  

Gone are the “be a man” tones made popular by chart-topping artists elsewhere. In is a satisfying, sincere look at life and all its tribulations. Don’t Be Tough is a life-affirming moment from Foxes in the Snow, the sort of song that sets you back on the tracks after personal derailment. Keep firm to its message, it’s one of the best songs of the year. These are some of the most delightful folk songs you can find from this decade, forget the year. Vulnerability is the root of Isbell’s strength. He opens the door to his home, his memories, and within, there are some of the most gut-wrenching moments. But it’s all worth it. Those darker spots and the mixed feelings found on Open and Close are at least proof of life. Not everyone can say they have the same.  

Past relationships, future problems, they come together on Foxes in the Snow with an openness that is both a credit to Isbell as a songwriter and an artist unafraid of his history. He amplifies it to create a lived-in album, a source of influence and guidance for those who need it. Foxes in the Snow does not amplify its heartbreak or undersell its lessons. It’s as genuine as it gets without any showy moments. Songs for the sleepless nights, the gentle folk touch is a Trojan horse of sorts for the outstanding, unflinching emotional context for Foxes in the Snow. You will not get a better singer-songwriter album this year. We rely on vices which do us no good in times of stress, as much can be heard on Good While It Lasted. But what remains throughout this latest Isbell album is a desire to do better, to provide more, either for the self or important people in an unclear future.