Justin Townes Earle Could Write a Helluva Song: Where to Start

Justin Townes Earle may have had a top-notch pedigree, but his music connected with people precisely because he came across as one of them. The son of one alt-country trailblazer (Steve Earle) and the namesake of another (Townes Van Zandt), he imbued his artful narratives with humility and deep empathy. While his well-crafted songs are inseparable from his own story, what mattered most was that his characters’ desolation felt real.

Ranging freely across country, folk, Americana, Western swing, Memphis soul, and more, he built up a prolific discography as a rootsy, down-to-earth songwriter’s songwriter. He sang with a gentle rasp that made commanding a stage seem as no-big-deal as bumming a cigarette outside the venue. Upon the heartbreaking news of Earle’s passing, here are five songs that can serve as an introduction to his humble gravitas.

“Mama’s Eyes” (2009)

Earle’s debut album, 2008’s The Good Life, was a well-rounded showcase of a young singer-songwriter gazing into the abyss and developing his voice. His follow-up, 2009’s Midnight at the Movies, was a more self-assured step forward, with highlights like the defiant folk ballad “They Killed John Henry” and a plaintive cover of the Replacements’ staple “Can’t Hardly Wait.” The album’s most striking moment is the exquisitely wrought family portrait “Mama’s Eyes,” which doesn’t shy away from Earle’s own storied upbringing. “I am my father’s son,” he begins, but goes on to show how he’s so much more.

“Harlem River Blues” (2010)

Earle’s third album, Harlem River Blues, set a high standard right from the jump, with its rollicking title-track opener. Featuring a gospel choir and spirited handclaps, “Harlem River Blues” sounds like a jubilant throwback, but that joy is quickly undercut. Earle’s narrator is headed for the “dirty water” uptown, quitting the game while he’s still ahead. “I’m no fool, mama,” he sings, “I know the difference between tempting and choosing my fate.” Another bittersweet highlight from that same album, “Slippin’ and Slidin’” is about the mistakes we all make and how we’ll make ‘em again. Be sure to watch Earle’s unforgettable performance of “Harlem River Blues” on Letterman, where he was joined by Jason Isbell.

“White Gardenias” (2014)

Earle’s gifts as a songwriter continued to progress on 2012’s Nothing’s Gonna Change the Way You Feel About Me Now, which paired his laments of loneliness and anguish with Stax-stye horns. He made the jump from the alt-country mainstay Bloodshot Records to the bigger, rock-focused label Vagrant with 2014’s Single Mothers, but what stands out in hindsight is how understated his work remained. Inspired by Billie Holiday, “White Gardenias” is a meticulous depiction of big-city heartbreak, deftly framed in pedal steel, loping bass, downswept guitar, and pitter-pattering drums. “I don’t know where she goes when she leaves me,” Earle sings. It’s patient, generous songcraft that rewards attentive listening.

“Champagne Corolla” (2017)

Earle certainly excelled at tuning into shared human miseries, but he also had a knack for noticing the small, good things. “Champagne Corolla” is another of his tough-to-beat opening tracks, this time from 2017’s Kids in the Street (his first record on New West). The song takes one of the most common subjects in American pop music—a car with someone pretty in it—and updates it with a sharp eye for mundane modern pleasures. The make and model of vehicle, more practical than the sportier stuff usually immortalized in song, just shows that “maybe baby’s got a head on her shoulders.” While the original has a standout horn section that’s the antithesis of beige, Earle’s stripped-down take on “Champagne Corolla” is not to be missed, either.

“Ahi Esta Mi Nina” (2019)

With last year’s The Saint of Lost Causes, Earle turned more toward social commentary. Once again set within an easygoing blend of country rock and vintage soul, the songs scrutinize the sufferings of Flint, Michigan, and rural Appalachia, but always from a ground-up, lived-in perspective, rather than through blunt sloganeering. Most piercing of all is “Ahi Esta Mi Nina,” a lovingly detailed sketch of a father addressing his daughter for the first time after his release from prison. “It’s about a Puerto Rican kid from [Alphabet City] who got locked up on mandatory minimums,” Earle once said. The song carries a powerful message about the need for criminal justice reform, but it succeeds because it puts you right there in the moment, having an honest conversation about regrets with a loved one. Above all, Justin Townes Earle knew how to tell a story that touched on the everyday angst that people must grin and bear.

Originally Appeared on Pitchfork