Kevin Morby’sLittle Wide Openserves asthe final instalment of what was conceived as a trilogy, withSundowner(2020) andThis Is a Photograph(2022) documentingspecific aspectsof his return to Kansas City.The record is penned as a love letter to the Midwest, but it also celebrates the great expanse of middle America in subtler ways. Morby‘s eighth studio album comes across as his most direct, understated, and poetic work to date. Ultimately,Little Wide Openis a masterpiece of simple and, at times, epic proportions that will linger deep within one’s soul.
“Badlands” is arelatively straightforwardopening statement. It begins with the clicking sounds of horse clops and guitar lines thataccompany thelyrics full of imagery reflecting the landscape: sparks from a firecracker, a dog barking in the dark, wild fields of lavender. The Midwest is depicted as a place where one might go to get some rest, butdon’tlet the simplicity deceive you. The tornado siren lies in wait, ready to harmonise with the world around it (brought to life through Justin Vernon’s vocals).
Since Kevin Morby longed to be a musician in the big world, it took some time for him to appreciate the sites of his upbringing fully. In a recent interview withPitchfork, he said, “Not having all the access to culture, it can create in a certain Midwesterner this lust for life. It only took time to realize the beauty within the Midwest itself.”Ifpreviousrecords focused on specific aspects of Morby’s experience after returning to Kansas City, this one expands beyondthe confines of his environment to the greater mythology that hangs over the heartland.
There is such a diversity across the flyover states thatit’shard to settle upon a definition, only that the Midwest has a way of getting under one’s skin. In the essay “Field Guide to the North American Troubadour” by Rachel Kushner, Morby shares,“Kansas City is not the badlands, butit’smy badlands.It’snot the bible belt, butit’smy bible belt.” The region can be hard to pin down, butit’sall-encompassing. In “AllSinners”,he references Idaho, Oklahoma, and Ohio, places distant from each other geographically and varied culturally.Perhaps,that’swhy here and elsewhere he falls back on the metaphor ofheaven—it’sa place on earth.
None of these pronouncements (even the Belinda Carlisle allusion) is made tongue-in-cheek. There is too much at stake to flirt with levity. Take “Die Young”,which acknowledges a blood brother—his late best friend, the musician Jamie Ewing—followed by descriptions of life-altering experiences, with the simple yet powerful sentiment “thank God that we didn’t die young.” Morby ruminates on the past butisn’tweighed down by it. He has discovered freedom through a newfound understanding of life and death, best encapsulated in the lyrics: “And if time plays tinyviolins,then we play symphonies through the centuries / And if time is a violentdriver,then we ride passenger.”
Morby’s lyricism distinguishes Little Wide Open from his other works. The track “100,000” paints a picture of individuals standing in for the masses and vice versa. Lives feel significant despite their ephemeral nature. Tangible illustrations of pretty girls (“You’regonnaswan dive when you kiss her / You’re gonna write poetry, babe, when you miss her”) and ugly boys (“Muscle cars in the front yard,/ Master of Puppets, and kill ’emall”) stand in contrast to the sheer number of people, dead bodies, and highways crisscrossing the plains.
Within the album, language connects and motifs surface, whether they are symbols found in nature (butterflies and fireflies) or the setting itself (riding passenger,cowtown, and bible belt).Accordingly, each song comes torepresentan essential part of the unified whole.
Sonically,Little Wide Openfeels both lo-fi and epic. Thedrums can sound enclosed (“Bible Belt”), the soundbites unexpected (“Javelin”), and the music self-referential (“Cowtown”). Still, the decisions were all intentional, thanks to Aaron Dessner’s production and complementary playing (which consistently proves why he’s one of the best producers in the business).
Morby cited Tom Petty‘s “Square One” (fromHighway Companion, 2006) as an influence. In the article, he noted that he had a revelation upon discovering the quiet beauty in Petty’s catalogue. While the second half of the record is more understated, the musicians showcase sophisticated guitar parts, as on “Natural Disaster”, and moments of pure intensity, like the end of “100,000”.
As Morby now splits his time between Los Angeles and Overland Park, the record may be a culminating moment for him personally, but it eclipses anythinghe’sdone as a musician. The eight-minute title track sounds less like an opus and more like a meandering reflection; still, every second feels essential.Kevin Morby describes feelingovercome in the wide-open space.When the beauty gets to be too much,there’sa very real possibility that one’s heart might explode.
Listening to the opening track sequence (from “Badlands” through “Javelin”), one might have the same reaction—that rare sensation when one haswitnessedtoo much splendor. If that is your experience,Little Wide Openwill have lefta lasting impression, a perfect rendering of heaven on earth.