Margaret Glaspy
I Am Both
ATO
Of the many impressive feats of songwriting found on I Am Both, one of the most audacious is a song called “Martin Luther King Jr.” Naming a track for the memory of Dr. King courts a certain sense of overzealousness (U2 did it back in the ’80s, if that tells you anything), yet Margaret Glaspy’s song is winsomely intimate, humble, and direct, positioning King’s words to address present-day realities in a conversational way. Even the concluding bars of the song, when Glaspy lets loose a Dylanesque harmonica solo, can’t help but feel authentic and earned.
All of this is just to say that Glaspy is very good at what she does, and the 11 originals that make up her new album are all gems. That earnestness that marks her MLK song shines through time and again, not least on the standout single “Reminder,” essentially the singer’s pep talk to herself. But the title of I Am Both suggests an artist who contains multitudes, something to which these songs readily attest. For example, she’s not only earnest but also very funny. The opener “Michigan” chronicles a breakup that transcends state lines, and Glaspy delivers the chorus with cocked eyebrow and bemused drawl: “You said you didn’t need me / Well, who’s standing in whose driveway?”
Not only are these her richest songs to date, but also her best-sounding recording. Give some of the credit to Joe Henry, the producer who’s rightly celebrated for how he coaxes warm, soulful work from accomplished songwriters; I Am Both belongs on the shelf with the albums he’s made with Loudon Wainwright III, Rose Cousins, and Aoife O’Donovan. Here, Henry surrounds Glaspy with a small cast of supportive session players, among them drummer Jay Bellerose, whose rumbling percussion provides a steady pulse, and Patrick Warren, who cradles these songs in warm keyboard tones.
Though mostly acoustic and performed at the pace of an evening stroll, these songs do offer some variety: On “That Rose,” a song of intoxicating jealousy, the studio band brings grit to a simmering R&B groove. Meanwhile, with her heavy electric strum, Glaspy summons the spirits of ’90s alt-rock on “Petty,” a song that allows her to both channel and atone for her spitefulness (opening lyric: “Can’t you read my mind? / I thought telepathy was a requirement for love.”)
The album ends with the title song, a celebration of being multifaceted. The sentiment is solid, but what makes the song stick is Glaspy’s casual command of little details. In the first verse, we meet a woman who’s told she lives too close to the train tracks. “I like a little whistle in my life,” she replies, a playful turn of phrase that immediately brings the entire song to life. It’s just another impressive feat of songwriting on an album that’s full of them, from an artist who keeps getting better.
