Pistol Annies
Interstate Gospel
* * * *
The most pleasant surprise for me this decade has been the emergence of Pistol Annies as a creative force in modern country music. My admiration for the artistic sensibilities of Miranda Lambert has been well-documented, but I’ve come to acquire a deeper appreciation for Ashley Monroe, and a new affection for Angaleena Presley.
The trio got the ball rolling on their third album, Interstate Gospel, at the beginning of this year when Lambert sent Monroe and Presley a verse and chorus to a song she was working on. Within 20 minutes they had each sent back a verse. That song, “When I Was His Wife,” is a blistering waltz from the heightened perspective of a woman post-divorce:
He’d never cheat, he’d never lie
He’ll love me forever ’til the day that we die
He’ll never take me for granted I
Said that too when I was his wife
God, he looks handsome in the bright morning light
His smile can light up your world for a while
His love is enough to keep me satisfied
I said that too when I was his wife
He’s funny as hell, hot as July
He’s strong when I’m weak, sweet when I cry
I’ll always be the apple of his eye
I said that too when I was his wife
The keen sense of awareness they tapped into on “When I Was His Wife” permeates throughout the record. Presley takes the lead on “This Too Shall Pass,” a not-so-delicate ballad about being trapped in a dead-end relationship. The true cost of staying in that relationship, the subject of the gorgeous “Leavers Lullaby,” finds Monroe at a moment of clarity:
When did I get this crazy?
When did I get so mean?
Living wild and exhausted
Paying what it cost to feel so free
Run along, little daddy, take the dog and the house and dang me
It ain’t worth the time that it’s gonna take to change me
It’s as deep as the holler and clear as the water that stains me
I want whatever it is I ain’t gettin’ from you
I know you need me to need you
I tried to teach you to be tough
There’d be no such thing as leaving
If just loving somebody was enough
“Best Years of My Life,” the purest moment on the record and one of the strongest mainstream country songs released this year, happens when you realize just what it takes to get you through the day:
I picked a good day for a recreational Percocet
I’ve got an itch to just get high
I’m in the middle of the worst of it
These are the best years of my life
I’ve got the hankering for intellectual emptiness
I’ve got the need to ease my mind
I’ll watch some re-runs on the TV set
These are the best years of my life
I’m gonna mix a drink and try to drown this worthlessness
Call mom and tell her I’m alright
Well he don’t love me but he ain’t gone yet
These are the best years of my life
“Masterpiece” finds a couple on the brink, questioning the possibility of undoing what to the rest of the world seems so perfect. The song, which Lambert said needed to be written, celebrates the darker side of being “that couple:”
Baby, we were just a masterpiece
Up there on the wall for all to see
We were body and soul, we were talked about
Once you’ve been framed you can’t get out
Who’s brave enough to take it down?
Who’s fool enough to lose the crown?
We’re just another thing they’ll all forget about
They’ll be standing around laughin’
Like nothing ever happened
All these moments of clarity reach their apex on “Got My Name Changed Back,” which has never made reclaiming your personal identity sound more fun. It has some clever wordplay, a nice dose of dobro, and a melody that’s catchy as hell. “Milkman” is melodically softer than its lyric, which finds a daughter putting her mother on blast for judging her personal choices:
If mama would’ve loved the milkman
Maybe she wouldn’t judge me
If she’d’ve had a ride in his white van
Up and down Baker Street
On a Monday with her hair down and hand about to slide between his knees
But mama never did love nothin’ but daddy and me
If mama would’ve smoked her a cigarette
Maybe she wouldn’t judge me
If she’d’ve done more than the dishes
Untied them apron strings
She’d be sittin’ in her sundress on the back porch mixing whiskey and sweet tea
Mama never did think twice about feelin’ this free
Mama never liked to pick wildflowers
Drinkin’ on a Sunday was a sin
She might’ve made it past the water tower
If she’d’ve loved the milkman
“Sugar Daddy” is about reclaiming your power by knowing and getting exactly what you want. “Stop Drop and Roll One” is unapologetically defiant, with the hard edge of pure country rock. “Cheyenne” finds Lambert enviously singing about a very flawed woman:
She lives for the nightlife and trashy tattoos
She loves country music and broken-in boots
Nobody can blame her for the chip on her shoulder
She finds plenty of pool-table cowboys to hold her
Her daddy says she was destined for sadness
And her grandmama Lily’s to blame for the madness
The only forever she knew ended tragic
So she’ll fall the night while the neon light flashes
If I could trade love like Cheyenne
If I could be just as cold as the beer in her hand
If I could move men and mountains with a wink and a grin
Oh, if I could treat love like Cheyenne
Another of the album’s shining moments, the title track, celebrates all those signs we see along the highways and backroads, not billboards, but those ones on the lawns of churches and the like that often display inspirational messages. “Interstate Gospel” isn’t just a great title for a classic country shuffle, but it lyrically ties the whole record together:
These church signs, they light up these roads that I roam
They’re leading me closer, they’re calling me home
The further I get, the further I go
This interstate gospel is saving my soul
This interstate gospel is saving my soul
Interstate Gospel, as far as mainstream country albums go, saved my soul, too. “Got My Named Changed Back” is lyrically thin with all the repetition and the “la-la-la” and “oh-oh-ohs” throughout are disconcerting. But overall this is a great album and well worth the five-year wait.
The Pappalardo Periodical 
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