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Drag City’s Legendary Storytellers
Drag City has been the home for artists who tell stories through music in the recent past. In addition, such musicians have become specialists in capturing the neglected, and somewhat grim, aspects of both the country’s physical side and the complicated inner spirit. Besides this, their big list of musicians also has the most significant names like David Berman, Will Oldham, Joanna Newsom, Jim O’Rourke, and Bill Callahan. As a result, this band truly represents one of the most powerful, nearly stars line-ups of singer-songwriters. Therefore, for any new artist joining this respected label, the challenge of standing out through unique lyrics is undeniably substantial and difficult to achieve.
Hanson’s Unique Musical Evolution
Despite the high bar set by these established artists, Cory Hanson has steadily developed his own distinct voice within their tradition after releasing solo work on Drag City for almost ten years. Notably, on his record “I Love People”, Hanson, who also leads Wand, changes his direction completely from the psych-tinged way his solo career was. He went on to use a sound characterized by the 70s mellow rock to heavily influence his musical style. To be fair, the album is packed with richly orchestrated songs that flaunt perfectly done horn and string sections, yet the words of Hanson do not entirely contribute to the creation of a nice, harmonious world of the music.
Specifically, these narratives carry a distinct sense of weariness and dry, ironic humor. Ultimately, the overall effect resembles a very deadpan version of the band Steely Dan, but then deliberately placed out within the vast, shifting desert landscapes of the American West. In this setting, Hanson appears to be searching for meaning, yet that meaning frequently proves elusive, constantly slipping through his fingers much like sand.
Joker’s Worn-Out Wisdom
The album’s second track, titled “Joker,” perfectly illustrates this overall approach found throughout the entire collection of songs. In terms of music, it has a faint and delicate integration of the extreme and decorated country-pop style that is called “countrypolitan,” but Hanson keeps his somewhat detached or emotionally limited vocal performance. Nevertheless, even though he was noticeably tired and sharing the story, his enunciation was quite clear, maybe a bit cautious or hesitant. This clearness makes the story well conveyed to the listener, thus the singer’s weariness is not a big obstacle. The song is eventually brought to an end with a saxophone solo that passes beyond the ear, evoking a scene similar to a lonely, sad wind blowing through a void.
Rooting Modern Struggles in Retro Sound
Hanson purposefully employs the ‘1970s style of music, and significantly, he utilizes this recognizable sound to comment on the pervasive social and emotional chaos that defines the ‘2020s period. Also, at the record’s beginning, “Bird on a Swing,” to a great extent exemplifies this method. To be more concrete, it employs traditional acoustic guitar melodies along with a base piano part. Meanwhile, Hanson sings lyrics expressing utter defeat, stating clearly, “I rode on the darkest range / I worked a thousand graveyard hours / I have no blood left in my veins / I gave it all up to the empire.”
Consequently, while the song might initially remind listeners strongly of past musical styles, Hanson cleverly refreshes this resemblance. He achieves this by linking the feeling within the music to a powerful theme: both the singer and, symbolically, the land itself feel completely drained and used up. Ultimately, the song drives this point home with Hanson concluding bleakly, “that’s the cost of being free,” directly tying exhaustion to the price of liberty.
Finding Light Through Quirky Tributes
Despite the often heavy themes explored, Hanson consistently offers strange moments of humor throughout these narratives. However, it’s important to note that a listener’s sense of unease frequently accompanies the intended amusement, creating a complex emotional mix. For instance, the oddly touching title track provides a prime example. Essentially, it consists of Hanson listing off wildly different categories of people he loves – including, as you might expect, people who teach children to swim and those suffering from incurable diseases – starting most lines with that central declaration, “I love you.” Besides that, the song has an anthemic, sleek voice that really makes it cheerful. Following this, the atmosphere changes dramatically to the slightly psychedelic and delicately sad sounds of “I Don’t Believe You”. Subsequently, this song is then interestingly placed right before “Santa Claus is Coming Back to Town.”
Unsettling Truths Beneath Familiar Surfaces
The apparent homely name “Santa Claus is Coming Back to Town” turns out to be very misleading. Hanson neither shows nor tells; instead, they tell the story of a soldier who comes home quietly from war in Afghanistan contrary to the idea of small town warmth that the title suggests. Furthermore, the instrumental also plays a big part in the story. Although it has an explicitly pure, almost Hallmark card-like sound, there is still a slight feeling of discomfort remaining under the surface.
Therefore, this combination crafts a semi-pastiched musical landscape filled with persistent unease. Significantly, a similar underlying tension also marks the atmosphere of another track, “Bad Miracles.” Collectively, these songs reveal Hanson’s deep understanding of the nostalgic pull inherent in his chosen musical style. More importantly, they showcase his refreshingly informed desire to actively experiment with and manipulate the very building blocks of that retro sound, using them to explore contemporary anxieties.
Hanson’s Timely Genre Commentary
Hanson, with his unique style, has clearly put forth a fresh, and meaningful viewpoint on the intersection of the various genres that are blending in the music world, styles like indie, country, folk, and rock. But the record is not consistently well-balanced from start to finish. Some of the slower songs are really strong, for example, the very touching “Final Frontier”, whereas other attempts at making ballads, mainly “Old Policeman”, have a very feeble melody and lack of emotional impact. In addition, the record’s general progression is a bit off-center, as it features more songs on the front side with the most potent tracks of the album.
From this first batch of good-quality songs, truly excellent pieces of work can be heard later in the track list, which in turn gives the album some of its brightest moments at the end. For example, “Texas Weather” could be mentioned as the best representative of the song becoming more and more lively and feeling like a perfect summer drive with the windows open as the album gets nearer to its finish. Interestingly, this uplifting musical vibe sharply contrasts with the actual lyrical content Hanson presents. He describes decidedly surreal and unsettling scenes involving power lines swaying like dangerous snakes and the disturbing event of a friend being arrested for murder, creating a fascinating tension between sound and subject.
The Critical Need for Attention
Consequently, the tension generated by this contrast between the music and the lyrics often passes by almost passively for the listener. This crucial moment of dissonance or realization can easily vanish completely if you happen to be too relaxed or inattentive to carefully observe the details Hanson presents within his surroundings. In fact, absorbing the full meaning of his words frequently produces a strong “duh” reaction, a sense of obviousness that hits you only after you pause to truly listen and reflect on what he’s actually singing about. This effect feels particularly relevant right now.
We currently exist in an era where the constant recycling and re-use of cultural elements seems especially accelerated or blatantly obvious. Significantly, the very method Hanson uses to deliver his message—his music—risks arriving at a similar ineffective endpoint if you, the listener, are too distracted while casually streaming it to notice his insightful commentary. Spotify, and platforms like it, be damned: while the customer might always be right in a commercial sense, the listener can absolutely still be held accountable for missing the point through inattention. Therefore, even though Hanson’s sound deliberately looks back towards the musical past, his true focus, his critical crosshairs, are silently and firmly fixed on the complexities and challenges of our present moment.
