Zach Bryan Made His New Album For Himself. But There Are A Few Songs For Us Too.
It makes sense that the new Zach Bryan album would be his “I’m famous now” record. Tons of collaborators, and lots of little indulgences along the way, make this Zach Bryan record slightly navel gazing.
And we get it. Scroll through Instagram or TikTok and you won’t see a frothier fan base than Bryan’s as they scream out every lyric he’s every written in unison. It’s reached hysteria, Zach Bryan is like Taylor Swift for boys. More specifically, boys that are out and looking for blood, in the back of a blue old pickup truck.
If anyone deserves a “one for me, one for you” mindset right now, it’s Bryan, a country artist so popular he can just hold the microphone to the audience every night and hear the entire set list screamed right back at him.
Perhaps Bryan’s self-titled and self-produced 4th record is a palette cleanser of sorts. A chance for him to hang out with his new famous friends (Kacey Musgraves, the Lumineers, Sierra Ferrell), try some new things, and not have to be the center of attention all the time. Because life sure must feel different for the Zach Bryan of today as compared to the Naval officer, apparently with no red eye filter on his phone, that used to have his songs go viral on Twitter of all places. Yes, maybe only Twitter itself has experienced as much change as Zach Bryan these past few years as he rode a rocket ship to stardom. Perhaps Bryan is trying to make the sky black and his eyes red, again.
It makes sense that this album is self-produced, as Bryan tries many new things on this record. Sometimes it’s good, and sometimes you wish he had someone around him that wasn’t just saying yes. Bryan starts things off with spoken word poem “Fear and Friday’s” that’s Johnny Cash meets Matthew McConaughey. If this is how Bryan signs yearbooks, someone find me a Sharpie. Per usual, Bryan’s lyric is perfectly crafted as he makes the case for Fridays being the new Sunday Scaries.
When the poem ends, it momentarily sounds like Bryan is going to have us take off our hats and put hands to chest as we hear what sounds like the first few bars of the “The Star-Spangled Banner” on guitar. Instead of the anthem, the first couple tracks on the new record show us how Bryan has flipped the script. While both “Overtime” and “Summertime’s Close” have the heartbeat of a dusty American Interstate, the sort of American muscle you’ll find on Bruce Springsteen and Gaslight Anthem records—Bryan himself seems comfortable taking a back seat and remaining understated. Springsteen’s Tunnel of Love may be the most more accurate comparison here. It’s still our guy, it’s still good—but something is different. And while Tunnel of Love came to be greatly appreciated years later, what people remembered first was this was the record where The Boss moved from Jersey to California and started wearing bolo ties.
In these first couple tracks Bryan does more speaking than singing, and it’s not until the fourth track on the new record that we hear something grand enough to makes us want to “call the women” and “hide the bibles.” But this is Zach Bryan, after all, so of course even his “I’m famous now” record would have the type of songwriting craft that made him famous in the first place. Look no further than track 4 “East Side of Sorrow” for proof.
It’s almost as if the new record really starts with “East Side of Sorrow.” When the percussion kicks in at the :38 second mark and Bryan belts, “I lost you in a waiting room after sleeping there for a week or two.” Hello, Mr. Bryan. Table for two? Sorrow and loss are draped all over this new record, but “East Side of Sorrow” is one of the few songs on this album that stands as tall as Bryan’s other monster hits (“Oklahoma Smoke Show,” “Revival,” “Something in the Orange”) on the setlist and is sure to receive its fair share of full-throated fan support once it’s added in. “East Side of Sorrow” is as beautiful as it is relatable. The sort of song that doesn’t belong to you anymore the second you write it.
On “East Side of Sorrow” Bryan delivers the perfect eulogy for anyone dealing with grief and loss and “Askin’ God where the hell He’d been.” Despite its pain, it’s a song filled with radical optimism as Bryan encourages us to pack our bags, lead with our chest, and keep heading toward the light no matter how dark things get. Eventually boiling grief down to a two-step process: “let it be, then let it go.” Beautiful. Simple. Stunning. Zach Bryan.
It’s clear Bryan had a ton of fun making this record, even if at times it seems he may be having more fun than his listeners. Because while the collaborations are interesting and original—as a singer songwriter they’re unlikely to stand the test of time long enough to make the setlist or the playlist. Collaborations are like toothpaste that’s hard to get back in the tube, a temporary sugar high like an award show finale. In fact, despite the Lumineers and Kacey Musgraves being the bigger names joining Bryan on this record, the best collaboration on the album has to be The War and Treaty on “Hey Driver.”
The syrupy vocal and honkytonk energy starts with Bryan handing over the stage, “This is your song Mike, let’s do it!” It’s raw and wonderful, a song that gets better with every listen. The Musgraves duet “I Remember Everything” is nice, if not a little sleepy. Like falling asleep watching golf. The Lumineers collaboration has more depth wrestling with the idea of imperfection on “Spotless.” It’s a heady and cinematic track that will have music videos playing in your head.
But it’s husband and wife duo, The War and Treaty, that is the collaboration that will stand the test of time. The song starts with Michael Trotter Jr. pleading, “Take me down a road that’s a little bit windy.” It finishes as creative as a reverse hitchhike, an ode to touring musicians looking for a driver to help them get off the road, and back to life—"Hey driver, you can drop me off anywhere.” Bold in its simplicity and add in Trotter Jr.’s extraordinary voice and you’ll have damn near any car screeching to a halt. So much so that Bryan himself feels the need to name check Trotter toward the end of the track, but Trotter sounds so good here you’d probably already Googled him.
Bryan’s new record is probably what it’s like backstage at his shows today as he’s finally getting recognition from his peers, and some former idols. But for an artist like Bryan who at the tender age of 27, we expect to regularly turn out iconic songs, this record doesn’t have many. Maybe two or three.
Another high note on the album is “El Dorado.” Maybe it’s how Bryan pronounces it, or how the chorus seems to lift us not twice, but three times—but “El Dorado” will be another fan favorite for years to come, a big song with open windows and some dust in the air.
In summary, if Bryan was looking to make a record for himself, he’s done it here. And credit to him for trying some new things, playing nice with others, and once again being one of our favorite creative people making original art. We thank you Zach Bryan for the bounty you’ve already given us. And it makes sense that this record you might be scratching your own back a bit, because while we love you, we don’t know where you itch. Or maybe you’re trying to get those eyes burning red again like they used to when X was still called Twitter. And the only way to do it is to “let it be, let it go.” To be creative, and original—to collaborate, and listen a little bit too.
Don’t get me wrong here, even the songs Bryan doesn’t carve from granite on the new album will still sound magnificent as you drink rotgut whiskey and listen on the VFW TouchTunes. And there’s a lot to like on the new record, including a killer album cover—but if you walk away thinking Zach got more out of this record than we did—we can’t say he didn’t warn us.
In the end it doesn’t really matter, because Zach Bryan just gave us sixteen new songs and fifty-four minutes of new music. Even if the math came out 14 for him, and 2 for us. We still win, because when the two songs for us are “East Side of Sorrow” and “El Dorado,” it’s enough. Toss in “Hey Driver,” and he spoiled us. Because Zach Bryan does not leave us wanting, today is enough.
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