Ambitious and honest work is the aim of Zach Bryan, whose albums seem to run out of steam towards the end. Soft subversions of modern country and Americana meanings can only get you so far, as was the case for The Great American Bar Scene. Nice enough the first few tracks, you can’t avoid the feeling that Bryan is standing in opposition for the sake of it, with no heart to his healthy breakdown of what has become a miserable time for the genre where popularity is concerned. Jack Daniels and pick up trucks are still pride and place in the popular themes of lesser country acts, and Bryan rightly sidelines those. That’s just the first step, though, that act is not enough to carve out a whole new expression for the genre. With Heaven on Top is a healthy attempt to undo that, as The Great American Bar Scene did, but the same issues appear again. Bryan may note both country and culture are in decline, but acting on it with the same pride Neil Young did, for instance, is the next step.
Catchy, calming country tones are not all that hard to adapt. The fundamentals are there for the taking. Bryan adapts the slide guitar, the drifting sense and rambler songs well enough, but it’s in finding that link between classic tones set by Woody Guthrie and Willie Nelson, and what the genre means to people now. Country music is never built on the pride of the state of things, it’s based on the hopes of improvement. That couldn’t be clearer from Bryan, and his writing has certainly improved throughout With Heaven on Top. Faux contentment is what strikes through here. Early track Appetite has a real thrill to it, instrumentally lush and lyrically powerful. But it’s a sudden thrill, a moment that’s hardly repeated throughout With Heaven on Top. A musician can only write from what they see and know, what their surroundings prompt them to muse on. Liquor stores, cigarettes, and the ridiculous, slow-living notion that survives in the American South is at once criticised but consolidated here.
Difference in background isn’t the issue, but the notion Bryan presents as a stance against the norm is difficult to swallow when it can still be tethered to the worse, leading country tones. Say Why is nice enough, but it’s the rhetoric of modern country that sinks this one. Dollars spent on courage, drinking to dull the norms, it’s all flat but consistent work. What bolsters Bryan is his voice. Truly brilliant and that honest, countrified twang is what makes a lot of his work feel representative of the unchanging genre strokes. He’s worked hard to piece new ideas together on With Heaven on Top, and they do prevail. Songs like Skin, comments on a need for a new life, are nothing short of delightful. Career-best work from Bryan as he pushes the bar of quality that little bit higher for himself and his peers. Little details are what derail With Heaven on Top, the predictable pauses, the faux laughter punctuating the harsher message, diluting it a little too far.
But instrumentally impressive efforts like Dry Deserts bring the balance back. Relatively predictable, With Heaven on Top never steers away from the expected form, and feels bloated because of this. It’s tricky to remove Bryan, as good as his work can be, from the hand-wringing sentimentality that dominates the US music scene whenever an acoustic guitar is introduced. Hardly the lows of what Brendan Abernathy can do, but it’s the same sentiment, just a different backdrop. Slicked Back has an essence of that, as does the song to follow, Anyways. With Heaven on Top is a frustrating listen. Cut out the strained material and what becomes very clear is Bryan has a voice and writing style that lends itself to honest interpretations of American life. Whether it’s dated or idyllic is neither here nor there, if he can hone his focus on songs like Rivers and Creeks, he may be onto something. Until then, it’s more bloat from an artist who doesn’t have enough topical range to write a twenty-five song album.
