Ashley McBryde is back with another incredibly strong record to add to her repertoire – The Devil I Know – out now.
Since the release of her label debut record, Girl Goin‘ Nowhere, McBryde has made a name for herself as one of the great songwriters, an artist in full understanding and possession of her artistry, carving out her own path in the industry, earning a legion of fans who have flocked to her authentic brand and songwriting that understands universal human emotion and everyday struggles. Now, on The Devil I Know, McBryde digs her heels in yet deeper to that brand, sharpening her talents further.
Together, the collection of songs paint the whole, messy picture of McBryde as an artist and human, one who feels more eager than ever to share her side of the story, in all its glory. From the off, she shows her vulnerabilities. ‘Made for This’ is a captivating start, as she sings about the harder side of making it big, and being prepared for the uphill climb. ”Man you’ve gotta be made for this / Cause most days you’re stuck in a truck / One big break from blowing up.’ There’s an electric guitar solo that injects the track with life, yet the lyrics paint a vulnerable picture.
There’s a good amount of heartbreak and yearning on the record, as we have come to expect from McBryde. So, ‘Coldest Beer in Town’ offers a glimpse into the unromantic side of heartbreak, in a blue grass infused, melancholic track. ‘Heartache is a hard way / Of finding out how life’ll let you down / And a clean break, there ain’t no such thing… every bar ain’t got the coldest beer in town.’ Throughout the record, McBryde digs further into this bluegrass-edged sound that packs a hefty emotional punch, nowhere more evident than on ‘Learned To Lie.’ Here, McBryde lays it all out on the table – the story of her upbringing and her family secrets, including her father’s infidelity (‘Fogging up the windows of an ’89 sable‘) and the effect it had on her (‘I learned to cry… Silently inside a house where the devil played‘). It’s a devastating track that lays her soul bare in a way she has not dared to do before. Doubtless though, there’s a good deal of fun still to be had where this bluegrass sound meets her nostalgic country roots. ‘Cool Little Bars,’ for instance, is a love letter to the dive bars and honky tonks in which McBryde started her career, offering up a prayer for them not to be turned into ‘drive-thrus and condos.’
Still, this is without a doubt her most rock-edged album to date. ‘The Devil I Know’ is a song of many faces – part rock anthem, part stripped back acoustic – all of them defiant, about remaining yourself in a world where people want to change you. ‘Flippin’ the bird, slammin’ the door.‘ This defiance is carried through on ‘Whiskey and Country Music’ – a bombastic, honky-tonk fuelled ode to old-fashioned country music – and on ‘Blackout Betty’ that continues the storytelling path she laid out in Lindeville. This searing rock-edged track talks about testing your limits in every way. It’s a heavy rock track that asserts the power of McBryde’s vocal, edging close to metal territory. These kind of storytelling songs and character portrayals are where McBryde is at her best lyrically, brought back full circle on the lilting, narrative country song ‘6th of October’ – the final track on the record.
Still, there remains a good deal of tenderness and wistfulness in McBryde. ‘Light On In the Kitchen’ – the lead single for the album – is a gentle, softer track paying ode to the most important women in McBryde’s life and the advice they have given her over the course of her life ‘Pancakes just taste better after midnight / When you make friends, always be color blind / Your freckles make you pretty / There’s more to life than bein’ skinny.’ The song is tender and kind as is ‘Single at the Same Time.’ This is one of the most magical tracks on the album – a wistful track of a love that could have been if both people had been ‘single at the same time.’ McBryde’s vocal is at its best here, imbuing every lyric with an incredible amount of yearning, even as she sings ‘It’s funny how it all works out, we’re happy now / But it still crosses my mind / What could’ve been.’ Elsewhere, ‘Women Ain’t Whiskey’ is a high energy, thrumming and defiant track ‘Women ain’t whiskey / You can’t just quit me / When you get lonely… Then leave me empty / When you’ve had enough.’ It’s a track possessing the magic that put McBryde on the map in the first place.
McBryde has never been afraid to carve out her own path in country music and this record is a monument to that fact – part heavy rock, part country, part acoustic – it’s an incredible feat, that both shows the versatility of her as a songwriter and artist. This is a powerful record that deserves multiple listens to appreciate its full depths.
