It's only an artist supremely confident in his art who can begin an album with the string-band hoedown that is "Beware Your Only Friend" (complete with rustic handclaps and a mixed vocal chorus). But Bonnie "Prince" Billy is certainly an artist comfortable in any surrounding, from the Baroque isolationism of The Letting Go and the laid-back charm of Lie Down in the Light to the smooth countrypolitanism of Sings Greatest Palace Music. Musically, Beware has a bit of everything; although nothing is as spare and haunted as The Letting Go, Billy moves from modern string band to smooth strings-and-slide to ragged alt country without batting an eyelash -- and that's just the first three songs. Oldham also has no fear in his lyricism, which intersperses clear, direct thoughts about relationships with metaphors or language that cloud the issues just as the sun was beginning to shine (that's just his neo-primitivist take on "the old, weird America"). Simply contrast his divulging lyrics on "You Don't Love Me" ("You say you like my eyes only, or just the way I giggle/Sometimes you like the smell of me or how my stomach jiggles") to the fatalist cipher that appears in "Death Final": "In a pit of bodies, I am loved by all/ By hamhock and by handkerchief, by damsel and by dall." Befitting the title, there are many cautionary notes to be found, such as the opener "Your Only Friend" ("I want to be your only friend/Beware of me") and "You Are Lost" ("Well you are bound to be put down at any cost, and if you listen to me you are lost"). The band, anchored by guitarist Emmett Kelly, bassist Joshua Abrams, percussionist Michael Zerang, and violinist Jennifer Hutt, provide close accompaniment, sometimes hesitating after a verse to pick up on Oldham's next declamatory phrase. A few arrangements may turn even the staunchest alt country stomachs, with a loose-limbed gawkiness that any musician under the age of 50 would have trouble pulling off; Oldham does indeed pull it off, but that won't make it any easier for some listeners. Oldham's brand of folk music is certainly old enough and weird enough, but there are noticeably fewer moments of beauty and fewer lyrical revelations than on his best material. ~ John Bush, All Music Guide
So who's been giving Will Oldham singing lessons? The artist currently known as Bonnie "Prince" Billy has displayed a rather inconsistent skill set when it comes to vocals in the 15 years since the Palace Brothers' debut album, but on 2008's Lie Down in the Light, Oldham sounds more tuneful than ever before; on the opener, "Easy Does It," he could pass as the leader of some better than average country-rock outfit from the early '70s, which matches the jaunty but laid-back vibe of the tune. Some of the songs here recall the more spare and troubling style that marked Oldham's earlier work, such as "So Everyone," "Willow Trees Bend," and "What's Missing Is," but he's still showing a greater control over his vocal instrument than before, sounding like a real singer in a way he often hasn't in the past, and while the production and arrangements on this album are lean and uncluttered, they're rooted in a warmth and lyricism that make this one of the most satisfying albums Oldham has offered as Bonnie "Prince" Billy. Oldham's obsession with Southern gothic archetypes hasn't changed much on this set, but the 11 new songs here feel fresh and unforced, with a grace in the wordplay that matches the natural flow of the music, and whether the mood reflects hope ("For Every Field There's a Mole"), longing ("Lie Down in the Light"), or contemplation of the mysteries ("You Want That Picture"), these songs hit their target true and clean. Lie Down in the Light doesn't sound like an immediate masterpiece in the manner of 2006's The Letting Go, but on the whole it's as strong and satisfying as anything Oldham has released in the last ten years, and it's encouraging that he keeps getting stronger and refining his gifts with the passage of time. And who knows what will happen if he keeps seeing that vocal coach. ~ Mark Deming, All Music Guide
Recorded in California in 2007, Wilding in the West is a live Bonnie "Prince" Billy document, incorporating 14 ragged-but-right songs. His band includes guitarist Emmett Kelly, bassist Aram Stith, drummer Alex Neilson, and keyboard player Azita, plus Dawn McCarthy and Paul Oldham on vocals. The material comes largely from 2003's Master and Everyone and 2006's The Letting Go, not so very far away from 2005's live album Summer in the Southeast (which even has a similar design scheme). Billy is an impassioned performer in a live context, and while the quiet beauty of songs from The Letting Go and Master and Everyone is what made them so powerful in the studio, they're not without their charms here. Overall, however, this one -- an Australian exclusive upon its release in 2008 -- is definitely one for the fans. ~ John Bush, All Music Guide
Will Oldham has usually preached the gospel of less-is-more, but after an own-covers record that emanated from the belly of Nashville itself (Bonnie Prince Billy Sings Greatest Palace Songs), followed by a collaboration with guitarist Matt Sweeney (Superwolf) and a churning live record (Summer in the Southeast), his work began to seem positively indulgent. The Letting Go is not quite as far a stretch, but it is yet another intriguing departure. Granted, its approach would strike most bands as skeletal, but compared to his last solo album of originals, 2003's Master and Everyone, it sounds downright gaudy. It was recorded in Iceland with a producer, Valgeir Sigurosson, who gets more out of Oldham's voice and songs than has ever been heard on record. Oldham's harmony companion, Dawn McCarthy from Faun Fables, takes a much larger role than her predecessor on Master and Everyone, and her credit for harmony arrangements tells you everything you need to know about how important she is to the success of this album. Oldham's songwriting is breathtaking, close to the best of his career, although little changed from the norm -- his surreal, fatalistic take on Americana Gothic. "Cursed Sleep" is especially wonderful, with a string arrangement that harks back to Nick Drake's "Way to Blue," haunted vocals from McCarthy the chanteuse far in the background, and a set of lyrics that build up to a tragic peak ("Cursed love is never ended, cursed eyes are never closing, cursed arms are never closing, cursed children never rising, cursed me never despising"). To the other extreme is "Cold & Wet," a downright jaunty (despite the lyrics), fingerpicked blues of the type that Mississippi John Hurt would have recorded for Vanguard in the mid-'60s, and percussion from Dirty Three drummer Jim White that could be confused with electric drums or the worst recorded organic drum set ever heard. Truth to tell, since the quality of Oldham's songwriting has rarely wavered, the excellent arrangements and McCarthy's contributions make The Letting Go the best of his career to this point. ~ John Bush, All Music Guide
Will Oldham is inexhaustible as well as unpredictable. This live set recorded during the summer of 2004 goes out of its way to trash his well-crafted American gothic persona. With a four-guitar front line that includes David Bird, Matt Sweeney, and Pink Nasty (who also contributes vocally throughout), Ryder McNair on piano and organ, drummer Peter Townsend (no relation), and brother Paul on bass, Oldham rocks up most of his Bonnie "Prince" Billy shelf and a tossed-in Palace number to shatter the reverence of his earlier live offerings. This one is loose, raw, and full of crackling energy and force. Check the live version of "I See a Darkness" or "Death to Everyone." But this also comes off as a dark, fierce record of broken love songs, as if Oldham is trying by means of this very electric rock & roll band to exorcise the demon of love gone bad -- very bad. And while it's true that these songs have been recorded before, they've never come off like this, like a man at the end of his rope yet refusing to give up the ghost. "A Sucker's Evening" snarls and swirls as Oldham twists and turns each word in his mouth as if it were bitter soiled fruit he needs to spit before it poisons him completely. Country, garage rock, American poetic bile, and sheer venomous energy fuel this terrific set that ranks among Oldham's finest moments on record. ~ Thom Jurek, All Music Guide
Will Oldham's musical personality is strong and distinct enough that when he collaborates with another artist, with rare exception he firmly takes the lead (whether or not that was the intention). And while guitarist Matt Sweeney (formerly of Chavez and Zwan) gets equal billing with Oldham's alter ego Bonnie "Prince" Billy on 2005's Superwolf, one listen confirms that this is primarily Oldham's work, with Sweeney obviously second in command. (The liner notes state that Oldham wrote the lyrics and Sweeney wrote the music, though to these ears Sweeney is either remarkably gifted at channeling Oldham's musical notions or the lyricist passed along a few melodic ideas as well.) However, this isn't to say Sweeney's presence isn't strongly and clearly felt here -- Superwolf exists in a musical landscape very much like Bonnie "Prince" Billy's earlier recorded work, such as Ease Down the Road and I See a Darkness, but Sweeney's periodic interjections of hard guitar lines give this a firmer musical texture and a stronger structural backbone than one might expect. Also, with Sweeney on hand, Oldham has kept some of his less appealing musical eccentricities in check -- this is one of his strongest and best-focused works in years, with the slow tempos adding drama to songs that manage to go somewhere in dramatic fashion despite their deliberate pace, and Sweeney's spare but evocative guitar lines fill the spaces without cluttering the frames. Even if Oldham ends up being front and center on Superwolf, the results make it clear the man works best with a strong collaborator, and it's hard not to hope Oldham and Sweeney continue to work together in the future. ~ Mark Deming, All Music Guide
The fourth Bonnie 'Prince' Billy record in six years finds Will Oldham relaxing into a beautiful groove; similar to 2001's Ease Down the Road, Master and Everyone is quite melodic compared to his Palace or self-titled releases, with less of the dire apocalyptic imagery and more reflections from his literate, anti-romantic backwoodsman. Like most of Oldham's recordings, this one rewards close attention, which reveals recording ambience ranging from creaking wood to a soft patting on the floor (a foot keeping time), and, of course, Oldham's half-resigned, half-plaintive croon. Little gets in the way of these songs. Circular lines from an acoustic guitar demarcate the choruses, a cello adds a bit of emotional warmth to one song, and a few others have the wheezing keys of what sounds like a pump organ. Fortunately, the songs stand up to the examination. "The Way" ("Love me the way I love you") is very nearly sweet, stranded between desperation and hope. Elsewhere Oldham is a true fatalist, resigning himself to the inevitable power of love to ruin his life and using the creepiest of old-timey metaphors to get his point across. On the title song, he explains the situation ("You tell me there are other fish in the sea, and another gathers roses for me/On this we will agree"), then uses the chorus to illustrate his worst fear: "I'm now free, master and everyone/Servant of all and servant to none." "Wolf Among Wolves" is especially eerie, with the merest whisper of feedbacked guitar and a wordless vocal punctuating the puzzled lyrics, "Why can't I be loved as what I am?/A wolf among wolves, and not as a man among men." One of the few guests on Master and Everyone is Marty Slayton, who contributes duet vocals to a pair of songs, a surprisingly close crossover to the folk crowd sparked by the success of O Brother, Where Art Thou? Mostly, though, Oldham concentrates on crafting unremittingly introspective and confessional material in a spare, old-timey format. As sometimes happens on the recordings of his kindred spirit Cat Power, however, such unstinting uniformity can be a curse as well as a blessing. ~ John Bush, All Music Guide
Will Oldham has long confused record buyers with his constantly changing monikers. Though the persona attached has remained fairly consistent, his releases under Bonnie "Prince" Billy brought a subtle but undeniable shift. Following the cracked, wayward style he adopted on 1997s Joya, Oldham settled on the steady understated "Bonnie" voice of I See a Darkness. The lyrics became more direct and the narrator's strange mythology deepened. If that album embraced its subject as a necessary, even beautiful aspect of life, Ease Down the Road finds the singer comfortable with this new-found acceptance. Backing Oldham is a cast of new and old faces who deliver their parts with an unusually soft, smooth touch. The singer eases into this setting, singing of his estranged upbringing, plans to construct his own kingdom (through questionable means), and love. The latter is Oldham's biggest preoccupation, finding its way into nearly every song, like the album's subplot. Though unable to choose between the love of one woman and the ability to be with whomever will suit his needs, the narrator is largely unconcerned with the conflict. Ease Down the Road features some of his most direct dealings with the subject on "May It Always Be" and "After I Made Love to You." As the album develops, this material is balanced with the more characteristic musings of "The Lion Lair," "Sheep," and "Grand Dark Feeling of Emptiness": songs that trace the same fictional histories found on I See a Darkness. The end result is the natural and necessary expansion of a unique songwriting voice. Seeming more confident than ever, Oldham's Ease Down the Road is a wonderful addition to a catalog that should earn him a place among the finest songwriters of his age, or any age. ~ Nathan Bush, All Music Guide