Ya know, it’s not entirely offbase to compare Will Oldham to Nas. Alright, I See a Darkness may not have had the fully epochal impact of Illmatic, but both were debuts that have continued to define the scenes within which they operate. Let us not forget that Pitchfork, still fully in their, “We’re better than you, and we know it” hipster ‘prime’, described the album as, “…the type of record that demands solitary reverence. No, this isn’t music. It can’t be. It’s something else.”
Whatever that actually means, big words. Continuing to record as Bonnie “Prince” Billy, Oldham has yet had somewhat the opposite fate of his hip hop colleague. Granted, this is partially because he’s never put out real stinkers, but he’s largely enjoyed respected elder statesman status from day one, calmly meandering through records (generally speaking) much more hopeful than the dire humanistic foreboding of his debut. The guy named his sophomore record Ease Down the Road, after all.
While 2008’s Lie Down in the Light was a mid-career highlight marked by boundless warmth and musical ambition, much of his work since has been enamored by how much can do with quite little. Recent efforts such as 2019’s I Made a Place and 2023’s Keeping Secrets Will Destroy You, while certainly strong, were more interested in collecting contented, quirky curiosities and paring things back, respectively.
His latest, then, serves as something of a surprise. The Purple Bird both revisits his cozier, warmer instincts and represents the most polished, purposeful, and focused he’s been in some time. It also happens to come through with the jams.
Oldham’s singing, as ever, remains key, a warm, rattling bastion, coming through the speakers like an old friend toying with some ditties during an afternoon of drinks on the porch together. As the album opens, with that inviting voice and familiar keys all but immediately setting the scene, you’re right at home, right away.
Yet, Oldham isn’t content to simply deliver on his expected strengths. Recorded alongside country music engineering legend David “Ferg” Ferguson (think Johnny Cash, John Prine, Sturgill Simpson, and more), it finds the producer wanting to make a Bonnie ‘Prince’ Billy album rather than a “Country” album, with Oldham seeking the precise opposite. That playful push-and-pull marks The Purple Bird as a real landmark in the revered artist’s later career.
This results in some truly gorgeous, sweeping moments: see the beautiful harmonies and warm feelings of “London May”, the mournful, yet accepting, serenity of “Boise Idaho”, and more. It also brings home the humor, delightfully giving in to Oldham’s most playful instincts, such as the “husband in the doghouse after drinking too late” romp of “Tonight with the Dogs I’m Sleeping” and – most outstandingly – the demented parade marching band energy of “Guns Are for Cowards”. Partly tongue-in-cheek murder fantasy as well as a scathing takedown of pathetic masculinity and gun violence, it’s as brilliant as ‘Oldham in joke mode’ has ever been.
So, then, The Purple Bird feels both distinct in the Bonnie “Prince” Billy canon – embracing the sound of Nashville – and like a leisurely stroll – that nonetheless packs some meaningful conversations – with a familiar friend, gently chatting about all the years have brought along with them, both the expected and unexpected. It’s weathered, but in a beautiful way. An experience that only improves the more you nestle within its inviting, open corridors, it’s as memorable and kind-hearted as anything in Oldham’s catalogue.
