Kacey Musgraves - Cardinal

The opening track to Musgraves' gorgeous new album Deeper Well has me looking to the birds for messages from the beyond

"Kacey Musgraves - Palace Theatre St. Paul" by andywitchger is licensed under CC BY 2.0.

I admit to never having been much of a fan of pop-country artist Kacey Musgraves over the years. I will also (embarrassingly) admit to never having given any of her 5 albums the time and attention to form a real opinion of them.

Until the past few weeks.

I am part of an online music discussion group where we gather monthly to banter about an album one of the members suggests. It can be any album from any genre from any time period. I love talking music with other music obsessives (surprise) and relish the chance to deep-dive into an album I know very little about before listening to it.

One record we discussed last year was Adrianne Lenker’s 2020 release, Songs. I knew Lenker from her work with indie darlings Big Thief but hadn’t heard her solo stuff. (Note: fellow Substacker

Stanley C.

who writes the wonderful

If Ever You’re Listening

had chosen this album.)

It took me a while to find my way into Lenker’s contemplative, sad, quietly hypnotic songs. It’s not the sort of album you play while doing the dishes or chopping vegetables. But, like many of my all-time favorite records, after several attentive plays, I found my way into the heart of the songs of Songs. Adrianne’s music required me to commit and submit, and when I finally did, I was immersed.

It’s a luxury I give very few new albums nowadays. Maybe a handful of records get played a dozen times or more in a given year. Perhaps some of you are able to prioritize listening deeply to a new record multiple times in, say, a month, plumbing its depths (or shallows). But in today’s world of streaming and access to nearly all recorded music at the click of a button, it’s not something I tend to “have time” for anymore.

This is a juicy topic for another day: the downsides of the all-you-can-eat-ificaton of music access. I’m going to fight this tangent and explore it in a future post. (But feel free to leave your thoughts in the comments!)

Because I like to show up feeling as prepared as possible, having an online album discussion group forces me to put the time into becoming clear about my feelings and opinions on the chosen record and the artist’s deeper catalog as well.

When

Terry Barr

of the great substack

Dig It!

chose Kacey Musgraves’ latest, Deeper Well, for our April discussion, I at first groaned. My aforementioned preconceived notions were all aflutter (all bird imagery intentionally accidental).

After my initial tantrum, I took a deep breath, grabbed my dog Bernie, and as soon as we started our walk, hit play on my phone and streamed Deeper Well for the first time.

I was immediately struck with a heavy blast of nostalgia in the opening track, “Cardinal.” Sonically, it reminded me of Rumours-era Fleetwood Mac. The gorgeous acoustic guitar melody has a strong Lindsey Buckingham vibe (with a bit of The Byrds thrown in) and Kacey’s smooth vocals immediately called to mind Christine McVie.

I was not expecting something this lush and “mature” sounding, but as a fan of lush, mature music, it was a wonderful surprise.

Lyrically, “Cardinal” is about the narrator noticing a cardinal on a tree branch and wondering if it was there to bring a message from a newly departed friend. The song hit me especially hard, as I recently lost a close friend and had been struggling with how to process her death.

I love Musgraves’ lyrical directness and simplicity. There’s no need to get all flowery and metaphoric.

I saw a sign or an omen
On the branches in the mornin'
It was right after I
Lost a friend without warning

Words unsaid
Scarlet-red

Cardinal
Are you bringing me a message from the other side?
Cardinal
Are you telling me I'm on somebody's mind?
Don't leave me behind

The idea of birds as messengers is as old as human existence, but it still hit me in the solar plexus like a slap in the face (a mixed metaphor that Kacey would never be caught dead using). Birds literally remind us to keep our heads up, to gaze at the skies, to remain open to the mysteries of the unknown.

When my sister died five years ago, I didn’t dream about her until three years after her passing.

Lisa believed in the afterlife, in spirits, in being able to make contact with the dearly departed. In the early aughts, she and my mom used to watch psychic John Edward on his daytime TV show “Crossing Over.”

I remember walking in on the two of them as they watched the show on a holiday visit. I couldn’t help snarkily calling out all the trickery techniques Edward was using. I told them how the producers had all the audience members fill out questionnaires before the show and Edward was using that information to “contact” their departed loved ones.

They both yelled at me to get out of the house, which I gladly did.

It took me a while to recognize that I was criticizing not just John Edward and the show but also my mom and sister. Who was I to stomp on something that brought them joy and some semblance of peace around a scary topic such as death? And what did I really know?

As a natural skeptic, it takes me a while to open up to new ways of looking at the world.

I like to think I’ve evolved from a closed-minded skeptic to an open-minded one, willing to consider alternative perspectives before aligning myself with any in particular. I do believe, though, that a healthy dose of skepticism is necessary when navigating this amazing yet dangerous world where people are willing and ready to take advantage of the naive and vulnerable.

I still think of “psychics” like Edward as charlatans, manipulating people in the midst of real grief. But at the same time, I do believe there are people who are able to access realms of existence that most humans cannot.

One otherworldly realm we all can access is the dream realm. When my grandmother Muriel and grandfather Alan passed when I was in my 20s, I used to dream of them all the time. Dreams so real and lifelike that when I woke up, it would take me several minutes to remember that my grandparents were no longer alive.

Because my relationship with my sister was complicated, with so many unanswered questions and feelings I never fully processed, I was unable to contact her in my dreams.

It was through writing about her, through exploring our history and the questions I’ll never have answers to on the page, that I was able to access not just my sister but deeper layers of myself. After doing that, I started to dream about her.

Now I dream about Lisa all the time, and, in true form, she’s just as avoidant of expressing her emotions as she ever was. But we have a blast anyway, traipsing across the realms of existence.

She’s a wonderful tour guide.

The rest of Kacey Musgraves’ Deeper Well was not as immediate as “Cardinal.” The following five songs were subdued and folky, more or less blending into one another. But after that, the album grabbed my attention again with the sweetly comforting “Heart of the Woods.”

Musgraves wonderfully captures the various stages of new love, from excitement to doubt to wondering if it has staying power to simply basking in what is. “Heart of the Woods" represents the latter, with its earwormy chorus repeating the lines:

It's in our nature to look out for each other
In the hеart of the woods
When therе is danger, we'll take care of each other
In the heart of the woods

The song is set up, like “Cardinal,” not as a metaphor but as an examination of how nature literally takes of itself. In the first verse she sings:

Under the ground, there's a neighborhood that can't be seen
Communicating through the roots of the trees
And up in the trees, there are voices that are echoing
A million different languages, songs we sing

It’s actually the only verse in the song, which is barely over two minutes long. I am particularly taken by the return of the birds in the trees, their voices echoing the languages and songs we sing. This seems a direct connection to the theme in “Cardinal” and, certainly, a theme that runs throughout the entire album.

I listened to the entirety of Deeper Well a dozen times the week before our group discussed it on Zoom. Each play revealed greater “depths,” a new song standing out to me every time. I even came to love songs two through six, which initially didn’t do much for me.

What I love about the album is how unhurried it is. Even a short song like “Heart of the Woods” is never rushed. Kacey was clearly in a state of self-exploration and discovery while writing this album and its wise curiosity is contagious.

It’s a clichè to say, “Take the time to smell the roses,” but it feels apt here.

Maybe Kacey would rephrase it and say, “Take the time to look and listen to the birds in the trees.”

It’s a message I’m taking to heart. When I take my dog Bernie out for his walks, I’ll be listening for the songs of my ancestors and the melodies of my recently departed loved ones.

• Have you listened to Kacey Musgraves’ latest album, Deeper Well, yet? What did you think?

• Do you get messages from the birds in the trees? From other non-human animals?

• Do you receive contact from the dearly departed? How do they share their messages?

• Thanks for reading; writing new posts has been extra challenging for me lately and it feels good to get this one done.

Cheers, Steve