Is the new cool thing in country music to stay away from Nashville? It’s certainly become more normalized to do so as streaming and a less rigid sense of “the industry” have become more pervasive. It’s a trend that is part practicality, another part personality. An exodus from Music City, at least for a few, seems to bring budding artists out of the smoky haze and elusive parameters of success that the city claims to offer. For JD Clayton, the move home no doubt recentered his psyche, honing his abilities as a musician and a man across the board.
The Arkansas native feels much more free and unbothered by the self-prescribed high stakes of artistry on his second LP, Blue Sky Sundays. Like the great folkies that came before him, there’s always some seriousness that’s delightfully contrasted with an attitude that breathes in the back porch morning air, with worries evading his psyche as he exhales. Being back in Fort Smith isn’t him running away from his problems; it’s him being able to take his time with them. Away from the hustle and bustle, this crunchy crooner now has time to linger on the details that make Clayton who he is.
Most of who that is, up to this point, is an incredibly infectious soul. There’s an earnestness in his voice and songwriting that speaks to the more indie-centric pockets of the genre while remaining innately Southern. He’s got that attention-grabbing talent you must embody to survive in the circuits he takes residency in. We get a glimpse of all that in “Dirt Roads of Red,” where our singer is bargaining with The Man Upstairs to make that heavenly home akin to his Earthly one. It’s an eternal theme, amplified here by glowing keys, trotting guitars, and a know-it-all voice from the peanut gallery in the back pew. Not only is he sure of his roots on this record, he’s sure of himself.
Much of Blue Sky Sundays moves with a bounce or sway in the wind, steady where it’s headed. Clayton, now adorning facial hair on that babyface, is sure to act like he’s been here before. There’s as much character in the first cup of coffee he brews in the morning as most artists have in their entire caloric intake. Everything he does, everything he says, is intentional. “Slow and steady, easy does it,” Clayton sings, seemingly bringing us into his orbit and pace of life. It’s a bit languorous, yet never gets downright sleepy. On “Slow and Steady,” he’s bracing us with comfort before we take off running with a pack of choir singers at the rear. The journey can sometimes get intense, but that’s no reason to panic. We’ve got a guiding hand with us every step of the way.
Taking his time and paying attention to the details seem to be at the heart of Clayton’s homecoming record. It is intrinsically rooted in the backwoods parables that every good ole boy grows up on, halfway to John Fogerty’s tenacity while also maintaining a pacificity akin to Jim Croce or John Prine. The arrangements, produced by psych-adjacent legend Vance Powell, are halfway to the cosmos – a litany of nooks and crannies to observe from top to bottom. On “Arkansas Kid,” we get moments for every cohort member to shine, shooting that swamp-rock feeling into the stratosphere. A return to simplicity is by no means an excuse to cut corners for this crew.
The homebody shows off his versatility and eclectic record collection on his cover of Tracy Chapman’s “Give Me One Reason,” a little more growly and strained than the original while remaining true to its bluesy backbone. Clayton is a cultural sponge in many ways, taking the artifacts from his travels back home with him for a little show-and-tell. Ready to show off his newfound influences with tracks bursting at the seams with life and color, what’s displayed is an unrestrained and unbothered artist found more attainable in the right environment.
Spontaneity and a unique flair personify much of what JD Clayton currently has going for him. This nine-track, patio-chat feeling record is refreshingly free-spirited. Blue Sky Sundays is steeped in the wit and wisdom of a guy who’s been around the block and decided his side of the tracks fits him just right. Simpleness, in this instance, invites far more than comfort through the screen door.
