by Myles Tiessen (@myles_tiessen)
“If I had a genie to grant me a wish,” opens GracieHorse on her new LP L.A. Shit, “I’d go as far away from you as I could and start again.” The album’s first track, “Hollow Head,” is about escape. The country standard is about abuse, learning to fend for oneself, and looking at the circumstances from an outsider’s perspective to see the situation more clearly. It’s the artistic statement of L.A. Shit.
After years of ripping through the country with the garage/punk band Fat Creeps, suffering a neck injury from her job as a nurse, and pandemic malaise, Gracie Jackson found herself in a dejected and morose position that many heart-worn country singers find themselves in. The memories and tales that bounced around her heart and mind for the past decade started forming into stories and songs with rich melodies and stunning instrumentations. Her journeyed voice reflects the years of entropy and moil but spins that into songs of self-determination, confidence, and humor.
Whether eating fried chicken in a hazmat suit, breaking up fights, or dancing with a stranger in a white stetson, Jackson’s narrative lyrics are almost cinematic in their oddly specific detail. The comedic “Winds of the New West” sees Jackson cynically gazing at the performative Los Angeles cowboys. “Looking at you, desperado/ driving the distance of 100 feet,” she sings in the renegade track backed by rolling drums. As she moves through fast food drive-thrus and meets various characters along the way, Jackson searches for authenticity in a city known for its intentionally crafted image.
L.A. Shit is very sonically diverse, and Jackson effortlessly traverses all the country music sub-genres from honky-tonk to Bakersfield and Appalachian to psychedelia. “If You’re Gonna Walk That Straight Line Son, It’s Only Gonna Hurt You” may be one of the farthest removed from the country genre, but it may also be one of the best on the album. A few jazzy chords open up to a funky rhythm section and a particularly gritty guitar solo. It’s over before you know it, but the song’s hypnotic effects linger on and on.
L.A. Shit is an alt-country fever dream through a seemingly undefinable city. Jackson isn’t afraid to play with country music conventions but doesn’t stray too far from traditional country norms. Regardless of how cornered she feels or how weird her life has become, Jackson shows that she remains open to new experiences on L.A. Shit.