The Weekly Coos

After Kacey Musgraves gave us the phenomenal Golden Hour, her life began to change on a personal front—she divorced Ruston Kelly, her husband, a Country/Americana singer-songwriter, and what stemmed from it was Star-Crossed, her last album, which took a personal journey that detailed the extent of Musgraves heartbreak, and the motions to move on. That latter notion becomes a reflection point for Musgraves, seemingly finding herself amidst the change. Deeper Well eloquently reflects it through the writing and production, showcasing how vibrant it can go. Within her generation and new, Kacey Musgraves sees and hears what connects to offer complexions reminiscent of the genre’s influence, like that of Folk or Blues. These tender genres have spiritually been affluent to emotive music deep-rooted in the soul and show how personally revealing Musgraves is with her words. Unfortunately, the music doesn’t carry such consistency; some mild production and writing don’t give it balance, having Musgraves’s vocals become the X factor that makes or breaks a song, even if it treads familiarity.

The production of Deeper Well trends positively, but others become detractors as it begins to play it safe with its minimalist or pop approach, bringing more reliance on Kacey Musgraves’s vocals to balance it into a remarkable memory. One such is the first three tracks, “Cardinal,” “Deeper Well,” and “Too Good To Be True,” which hearten each other with the connecting tissues that come from the idea of growth. “Cardinal” speaks to the loss of a friend; here, it’s John Prine, and as Musgraves aims to lament, she witnesses a cardinal. Cardinals are like a message from the afterlife, as if one’s spirit flows through them to see you to ensure you never feel loneliness. It’s a tender song that establishes the sentiments Musgraves provides throughout the rest of the album, all centering back on the idea of self-growth, like realizing the split between dreams and reality within a relationship on “Too Good To Be True,” or realizing and loving the little things in life that don’t overbear you, and to cut out the bad with “Deeper Well.” They all highlight what makes much of the album worth a chance, even if I was mildly disappointed comparatively.

Musgraves’s vocals empower and maneuver music. When it gets modestly pop-like, it doesn’t take that step forward. It makes listening to the album feel more like a second literary work that is doubling down on the anecdotes from the first album, especially as the themes overlay through an album that represents, in a way, new beginnings. By expressing that, we get more perspectives on life (whether past or present), but as creative as Musgraves and her co-writers get, not all stand out. Here, I’m specifically talking about “Heart of the Woods,” “Sway,” and “Jade Green,” the latter of which I like, but they do anything creative with their contextual metaphors. “Anime Eyes,” “The Architect,” and “Lonely Millionaire” are significant highlights as she tries to sing about different things, like “The Architect” and the focus on life, earth, and spirituality, and the latter speaks to the depression and loneliness of fame, despite what the exterior tells. It speaks louder because we are in the social media era, where posts can perpetuate a life and feeling that is the opposite. Another highlight is “Dinner With Friends,” which focuses on varying places and actions done with friends that feel like home, even when away from home, but the production doesn’t have the mirroring gravitas.

The production is the weakest part of Deeper Well, primarily because it doesn’t try to extend its reach, drawing little from the percussion and evolving it within some of the more folk-like songs. “Moving Out” is one example of such, as it treads a familiar line without flexing tempos based on the note. It’s direct and fluid, but it doesn’t have the lavish sizzle of “Jade Green,” where the percussion and synths get exemplified through subtle pasting of the chords from the guitar, bass, viola, and cello. The former is more folk-pop, while the latter plays more to country, but it feels that the pop plays it safe, rarely letting the layers marinate, unlike the country one, which is as vibrant as center stage lights. It isn’t for all songs; “The Alchemist” keeps the minimalism focused with the acoustic guitar steering notes from the banjo and piano into a sobering meditation on life. “Anime Eyes” follows suit with twinkly chords and cherry blossom-blooming vibes. “Lonely Millionaire” brings an effervescent atmosphere that takes you to one of those divey basement clubs where a three-piece band plays a soft-rock track that uses synths and percussion to round it in a gloomy but growing bravado. 

It’s safe to say I wish I liked Deeper Well more than I did, but when you have standards set by Golden Hour, it’s not hard to see the modest decline. It’s a great minimalist album that understands the conjectures of what it wants to say but more so as an attachment to her past album, as it continues to explore more about emotions, humanity, and nature. I know fans will get something from this album; hell, they may even find some of the weaker songs better than me, but as it stands, I can’t help but feel like most of this album will end up staying forgettable until we get another “High Horse” like anthem from her. Maybe she won’t, but one thing is clear: her vocals never flounder.