When Woody Guthrie wrote “Deportee (Plane Wreck at Los Gatos)” in 1948, he was giving names to the nameless, the 28 Mexican farmworkers whose deaths in a California canyon were dismissed by the press as mere statistics of the state. Nearly 80 years later, the dust has yet to settle.
Crys Matthews, the Nashville-based songwriter and newly minted custodian of the Guthrie estate’s musical lineage, has stepped into that same canyon with “Citizen”, a work that suggests the American identity is still a fragile, contested thing.
Matthews’ arrival at TRO Essex Music Group — the publishing sanctuary for Guthrie, Pete Seeger, and Pete Townshend — feels like a career milestone and more like a historical inevitability. As the first artist to win the International Folk Music Awards’ Song of the Year twice, Matthews has spent the better part of the decade earning the right to pick up Guthrie’s pen. On “Citizen”, she does more than just cover a classic; she updates a grievance.
The impetus for the track arrived during the volatile summer of 2025, as the US presidential administration’s scrutiny of immigrant populations reached a fever pitch. Matthews, a proud Black Southerner and LGBTQ+ advocate, found herself ruminating on how the indignities once reserved for the “deportee” were now being leveled at those who are, by law and by birth, citizens. In her hands, the song becomes a visceral interrogation of the “show me your papers” mentality. Her vocal performance is grounded and weary, carrying the weight of someone who recognizes that the erasure of humanity is a cycle, not a relic of the past. By keeping much of Guthrie’s original structure but weaving in the modern reality of the 2020s, she makes the case that the “altogether” Guthrie dreamed of is still a long, hard walk away.
If “Citizen” is the fire, then her companion release — a cover of Ed McCurdy’s 1950 peace anthem “Last Night I Had The Strangest Dream” — is the cool water. It is a song that has been sung by everyone from Simon & Garfunkel to Johnny Cash, yet Matthews manages to strip away the folk-revival sheen to reveal a quiet, prayer-like core. It is a performance inspired by her mother, whom she calls “The Rev”, and it plays like a moment of communal exhaling. In an era of ceaseless digital noise and political combat, Matthews’ delivery relies on a startling simplicity. She isn’t shouting for peace; she is imagining it so clearly that you can almost see the “paper being signed” in the lyrics.
The dual release marks a significant debut for her on Shamus Records. It is a bold, complex distillation of everything Matthews does best: blending the high-lonesome sounds of bluegrass and the grit of the blues with a lyricism. She has always been a “troubadour of truth”, but with these recordings, she joins the ranks of the essential. Matthews is singing about justice; she is documenting the soul of a country that is still trying to decide what to do with its promises.
Listen to both songs below or find them on your preferred streamer.
You can find Crys Matthews on Instagram, Facebook and TikTok.
