As list-making is my bread & butter (whatagringoexpression!), sometime in the future I will do meta-lists: lists about my blog itself. Or, if I’m lucky, some fan will do them, or Pitchfork. My first idea for a list? What artists did I review the most? At this point, with this review, Bill Callahan is one of the best with this article being the second! However, I would go deeper with my reflection and claim that Bill Callahan is an artist I always want to write about. Crikey!, George Russell would exclaim.

Bill Callahan is definitely one of my favorite songwriters of the past 10 years. I have enjoyed every album I’ve heard from him, including most of his lengthy discography as Smog. Since I first heard the shimmery, textured, soul-inspired Dream River several years ago, I’ve immersed deeply in the work of Callahan, a songwriter that sounds like a troubadour that’s seen too much, but at the same time wants to keep analyzing each and every step of the way.

After two relatively low-key (and great) records that recalled his earliest work in 2019 and 2020, YTI⅃A​Ǝ​Я founds Callahan exploring sounds peppered throughout the aforementioned 2013 release Dream River and its predecessor, 2011’s Apocalypse. In a way, it also feels like a callback to Knock Knock, his acclaimed release as Smog from 1999. But if Callahan is many things, one of them is creative. The textures, the ideas, and the flow of the songs may remind you of past works, but they have their own distinct approach, one that you can’t simply avert.

‘First Bird’ works like a prologue, benefiting from vocal harmonies and a sweet but engaging rhythm section. “We are coming out of dreams, as we are coming back to dreams”, he croons at the start of the song, a short and concise analogy for a normal day in the life, if you ask me. This type of quotidian analysis, combined with Callahan’s unmistakable poetry embellish many of the tracks here; whether is just a line or two, Callahan manages to imprint a thought in your memory, further aided by embracingly soulful instrumentation.

Mid-life musings are a central theme in YTI⅃A​Ǝ​Я, just like it did in its predecessors: how to navigate this, and Callahan’s encounters with his life as a father. That is another outstanding thing about this record, Callahan is already a seasoned musician after 19 albums, and this is so evident in how he sings like telling a story, and pushes you to wonder if there’s going to be something to learn inevitably. However, his inclusion of sounds, textures, and even noise that borrow ideas from the past, makes YTI⅃A​Ǝ​Я live in a special place in his discography.

‘Bowevil’ is the first main highlight here. A bluesy, acoustically propulsive cut, with a head-moving chord progression in the guitar and Callahan’s voice reciting a fairly simple tale like a preacher. The drums eventually join, and these blues become more punchy. While reciting and repeating his workingman tale about the entitled ‘Bowevil’, the song evolves, adding vocal harmonies and meandering guitar noises in the background, that eventually take hold of the track completely. The effect is spellbinding. More so when the following track starts. ‘Partition’ with an even more urgent rhythm and jazzy beat to it, found Callahan using a mantra to comment on the human condition. “Meditate, ventilate, do what you gotta do” his whispery delivered baritone claims, “to touch the picture”; I can’t help but wonder if he means the ‘big’ picture. “Microdose, change your clothes, do what you gotta do” he recites later, as the instrumentation increases its urgency; at times it feels is a command, not a suggestion.

Melodic passages and tuneful choruses abound, which really make the case for Callahan’s songcraft, that at times may seem like a more bluesy side of folk. There’s the beautiful ballad ‘Lily’, one of the gentler songs here, which colorfully describes writing to a loved one that is gone. The second single ‘Natural Information’ is an enjoyable and road-trip-ready tune in Callahan’s own style. The song is a fun analysis of everything we learn, questioning if we need it: “All this natural information/Got me in a state of deep contemplation”. Drag City extended the song to 6-hours on YouTube, creating an ambient collection of sounds that seem very appropriate, talking about contemplation.

And, exactly that is what Bill Callahan inspires when he grabs his guitar, plays soft notes, and starts rambling on: contemplation. This is a common feature in many of his records. And despite the penchant of YTI⅃A​Ǝ​Я to encompass eclectic rhythms and ideas, in the end, Callahan is still the same weary and experienced man we’ve come to know in his latest releases. “Well, it’s been so long/Laying on this rock/Staring at the sky”, he quietly declares in ‘Planets’, what best analogy to our long-winding and simultaneously fleeting existence than the movement of celestial entities. After that, Callahan takes us back to Earth and spits a little more of his lyricism before leaving: “If you were a housefire / I’d go back in for the cat” supported by instrumentation that clearly marks a closure.

So is Bill Callahan’s deep baritone, which always maintains an almost indiscernible sarcastic tone, what invites me again and again to his world? Is his music’s inviting and embracing nature? Or is it the fact that he causes the same impact whether he is talking about his day-to-day accompanied only by his guitar or declaring that all our souls are naked and that no one can hide them while vocal harmonies and a saxophone freakout overwhelm his voice? I’ll say, all of the above. YTI⅃A​Ǝ​Я is a very interesting record, coming at a time Callahan seemed to be just settling down. It sounds like the weathered man he is, however, in all the mid-life midst he encounters reasons to amplify his thoughtful moments and fun storytelling for all to hear.

Renewed, you know, for a second season
Let’s leave our things here and roam