Highway Prayers – Billy Strings

By: Soren Rasmussen

The words ‘bluegrass’ and ‘stardom’ are not accustomed to each other’s presence. For a genre deeply rooted in the American front porch and the distinct sounds of the banjo, fiddle, and mandolin, international acclaim is seldom considered, let alone achieved. And yet, flat-picking prodigy Billy Strings has found profound success in every step of his young career, descending like a lightning bolt and enlivening a fanbase that has graciously but stressfully lauded him as their saviour. After a one album digression into traditional folk and bluegrass with his stepfather in Me/And/Dad, Strings is back to original material with Highway Prayers, a 20-track behemoth that ventures far and wide but never too far from home, another masterwork of an artist hitting his stride.

There is a fearful cynicism among many Billy Strings fans of an impending Dylan-going-electric moment when he will inevitably abandon his roots for the freedom beyond genre and the mass-appeal of popular music. Highway Prayers’ first track, ‘Leaning on a Travelin’ Song’, asserts that such a moment is nowhere in the forecast. Strings’ band of virtuosos in Billy Failing (banjo), Royal Masat (bass), Jarrod Walker (mandolin), and Alex Hargreaves (fiddle) are in peak form, driving the tune and soloing with all the vivacity of their most beloved tracks. Meanwhile, Strings’ lyrics declare amid all his pain and anxiety – “Seeing things that just ain’t there / Five hours away from anywhere” – music remains his key to survival, a passionate renewal of vows to begin the album.

He keeps moving fast with ‘In the Clear’, an unmistakably Billy Strings track with its acoustic adrenaline-rush and beautifully honest songwriting, inventively articulating past trauma and struggles: “Broken down and started praying / But I was pleading with the wind / Just to never feel the difference in the breeze.” Strings has made no secret of his past across his career: his father died of a heroin overdose when Strings was only two, and his mother and stepfather struggled with addiction leading him to run away from home and suffer personal addiction struggles growing up. While the cliche of suffering as necessary to produce great art remains untrue, that past is clear in much of his lyrics, inspiring and informing his music. Even so, they never bog down the upbeat melodies, instead giving them a depth uniquely his in modern bluegrass, as he blends traditional styles with his contemporary, open yet never banal lyricism.

But perhaps Strings’ greatest asset is his musical range. Across the rest of the album he explores a variety of sounds, as well as forgoing lyrics in three instrumental tracks. In the first slower track, ‘Gild the Lily’, he borders on singer/songwriter, speaking of wanting to sing with the birds, revealing something in him not satisfied with his success through the words “It must be nice (it must feel good) / To just be heard”, and ending the tune with bird noises. A sensitivity to nature grounds the piece and gives it a unique beauty. He dips his toes into outlaw country with ‘Seven Weeks in County’, blends psychedelic rock and folk in ‘Stratosphere Blues / I Believe in You’, and even conjures the spirits of Arlo Guthrie and Ramblin’ Jack Elliott in the witty spoken word story ‘Catch and Release’.

An early favourite for the most successful track of the album is ‘Leadfoot’, a slightly poppier tune with dangerously catchy lyrics about a reckless driver with sampled sounds of the 1972 Chevrolet Chevelle from the album’s cover. While it’s fun and certainly has the makings of a hit, the song fails to represent the best parts of Billy Strings: the personal lyricism, bucolic harmonies, and organic atmosphere. It’s still bluegrass, but it risks being a bridge to pop, perhaps aided by the album’s producer, Fiona Apple and Mac Miller producer Jon Brion, who also encouraged the album’s wackiest track, ‘MORBUD4ME’, a silly ode to weed with sampled sounds of bongs and lighters. But if Strings can avoid the temptation of such success encouraging him to write simpler, less rooted songs, he’ll continue to provide modern listeners with some of the best bluegrass ever recorded.

As of today, all signs point towards his doing so. In a recent interview with GQ, he speaks of sometimes wishing to return to roots. “Lose the big light show, play to a 500-capacity room max, get intimate and actually play real bluegrass instead of whatever monster we’ve built that now I have to feed,” he says. Strings is at a crossroads now: he has the whole world tugging at him to walk into the bright lights, only that’s not where his music is most rewarding. As a bluegrass musician, he’s after a profession that doesn’t fit the bill of global stardom – which in fact could be inhibited by it – only he’s achieved that stardom already.

Indeed, Highway Prayers is at its best when offering his personal, contemporary brand of bluegrass still steeped in tradition, with its jam-band influenced solos and glowing camaraderie of instrumentation. In songs like ‘Don’t Be Calling Me (at 4AM)’, ‘Be Your Man’ (which features a long-overdue piano solo), and especially ‘Seney Stretch’— an instrumental track and my personal favourite piece from the album, a beautifully serene tune that feels like a sunset shining through a field of wildflowers — he finds this space again like he never left it, and like he never wants to leave.

In the best of Strings’ music, you can feel the sun on your skin and the breeze through your hair; you can smell the forest and see the birds passing calmly overhead. While he doesn’t always manage to capture such an atmosphere with all the intensity found in Home, he also shows no signs of abandoning the pursuit of that world and those feelings. It’s an astounding victory for all that have already fallen in love with his music, and for all those who will find it soon.