Review: Dustin Bothwell ‘The Magnolia Sessions’
Having previously reviewed Shannon Jae Ridout’s contribution to The Magnolia Sessions, I already had a feeling for what makes these recordings so special to me: the simplicity of the setting, the intimacy of the performances and the sense that nothing stands between the artist and the listener. Recorded beneath the magnolia tree at Dan Emery’s Anti-Corp Music/Black Matter Mastering headquarters in Nashville, these sessions have an immediacy that makes you feel almost present with the musicians.
Dustin Bothwell’s session feels particularly suited to that setting as his ballads are earthy and full of warmth, but it is a warmth born from experience rather than sentimentality. These are songs of work, loneliness, love, mistakes, frustration, drinking, faith and the everyday struggles of being human. And then there is the way Bothwell sings them.
There is no feeling that he is trying to sound country; it’s as though he understands the life behind the songs. There is weariness in his voice, tenderness in his phrasing and a roughness that makes everything feel closer and more truthful. There is also something in his vocal delivery that brings Bob Dylan to mind, a certain nasal, unpolished quality. Listening to him, it breaks my heart, and somehow, at the same time, it makes it bleed in the most heartrending, beautiful way. It’s the music that hurts, too.
Emery described him as a ‘true blue-collar songwriter,’ and that phrase stayed with me. He speaks of songs about the life of the regular person, relationships falling apart, life’s frustrations and struggles with personal vice. That is exactly what I hear. Bothwell doesn’t judge the people in his songs. They drink, make mistakes, lose people, want more, struggle and carry on. They are flawed and vulnerable, and somehow that makes them feel familiar.
His 2024 self-titled album introduced me to songs such as Beats The Truth, To Spite The Blues, Robin and Wanting More. Hearing some of them again here, in this stripped-back setting, feels different. They seem closer, more exposed. The story behind the session adds to that feeling. The singer-songwriter had followed The Magnolia Sessions for years before finally recording one himself. After a long day’s work, he arrived without even having a setlist. With Elijah Wyatt beside him on guitar and backing vocals, he simply played what felt right, and I love that.
There is something wonderfully country about finishing a day’s work, picking up a guitar and letting the songs decide where you go. Wyatt is also an essential part of the recording; his guitar provides the foundation, but his backing vocals are just as important. They don’t simply fill out the sound; they become another voice within the stories, sometimes answering Bothwell, sometimes almost disappearing beneath him, and sometimes creating a harmony that makes a line suddenly ache. That interplay between the two voices is one of this session’s great pleasures.
He doesn’t force the emotion, he lets the words do their work…
Thinkin’ About the Train immediately pulled me in. The train is an old image in country and folk music, but here it’s given a deeply human sense of escape and longing: leaving something behind, wanting to move, hoping somewhere else might offer a different life. It brought Woody Guthrie’s Dust Bowl Ballads to mind, as he had an extraordinary ability to turn the experiences of ordinary working people into direct, memorable songs. I hear something of that tradition on this recording, but this doesn’t feel like looking backwards; the longing in the track feels completely present.
Beats The Truth made me think of John Prine. There is something about conversational approach to songwriting that recalls that gift for finding extraordinary meaning in ordinary language. Prine could make a simple observation funny, heartbreaking and quietly profound, sometimes all within the same verse. Bothwell has something of that same earthy sensibility. He doesn’t force the emotion, he lets the words do their work, and the feeling arrives almost without warning.
Quit Making Whiskey takes us into familiar country territory, but there is more beneath the humour. It is the painful recognition of knowing something isn’t good for you and reaching for it anyway. Here I thought of Johnny Cash, because both understand how to sing about human weakness without turning it into a moral lesson. Casey’s Last Ride brings out his storyteller side as it feels like an old country ballad in which an entire life can be suggested in a few verses. In 10,000 Candles, there is an attempt to create light in the middle of something deeply troubled; it’s almost fragile the way he sings, as if every candle is another small act of keeping the darkness away.
Robin feels more intimate, leaving enough unsaid to make me want to know more. To Spite the Blues carries that wonderful country mixture of sadness and defiance, while Wanting More touches something almost universal. Who hasn’t wanted more? More love. More time. More freedom. More from life. The simplicity of closing song, Stop Raining Lord, is devastating, and this is where the whole recording hits deepest.
This The Magnolia Sessions felt so compelling because of the way Bothwell carries a long musical tradition without simply looking backwards. His songs feel earthy, warm, weathered and human. And there is something about the whole session that breaks my heart in too. Perhaps it is his voice, with its warmth and weariness. Perhaps it is the addition of Wyatt’s guitar and those beautifully understated backing vocals. Perhaps it is the atmosphere itself, the feeling that nothing stands between these two musicians and the listener. Probably it is all of it.
Like the best songwriters before him, he knows that there is poetry in ordinary lives, even when those lives are messy, painful and far from perfect. And when Bothwell sings them like this, with Wyatt beside him, I don’t simply hear country music, I hear life. And sometimes, listening to The Magnolia Sessions, that is enough to break my heart and soothe the blues.
Label: Anti-Corp Music
Band Links: Bandcamp | Spotify | Instagram
Scribed by: Domenico ‘Mimmo’ Caccamo
