When Dolly Parton passed away in August of this year, much of the country music world began to look in Miranda Lambert’s general direction, maybe not as an heir apparent to the seat of chief matriarch of Nashville, but as a kindred spirit at the very least. In addition to several other qualities, Parton was constantly pushing herself artistically.
From heartland folk tunes to kitschy country numbers and into mainstream pop records, there seemed to be no world the big blonde wig couldn’t step into with confidence. A songwriter first and a businesswoman second, she once told Colin Irwin that “times change, music moves on, and I’m the kind of person who likes to move with the times.” It’s not that Parton was a sellout; she just knew how to keep her audience engaged.
Lambert’s late-career trajectory, at least artistically, continues to mirror her closest point of comparison. Here, she dives headfirst into the dance floor on Crisco, a shimmering showcase of her continued versatility and commitment to pushing her limits. Consider it another conquered subculture for Lambert, who flitted between a rough and rowdy vagrant on The Weight Of These Wings to having a permanent reservation at the honky tonk on Postcards From Texas. But Crisco, from flashing lights to flare pants, is as hyperfocused on the concept as Lambert has been in some time, to the point where it veers into on-the-nose territory. “Ain’t we mixing country and disco?” She sings on the record’s title track, before nodding at Kenny Rogers and Dolly Parton’s dancefloor-laden, Bee Gees-written “Islands In The Stream” just a few bars later. It’s no real secret who her biggest points of reference are here.
But the glowy sheen that’s draped over the majority of the record works past the point of pure novelty, both for Lambert’s strengths as a performer and as a complementary addition to the retro-focused moment country music has been in for the better part of the decade. On “Two Things Can Be True,” where a weepy steel meets the shuffle of a last dance, there are shades of Lynn or Harris as it harbors some forlorn thoughts inside its flighty vocal performance. Cut to “Cuttin’ Onions,” and that spunky attitude is in full effect as Lambert sounds like she’s prancing through heartbreak, with tears falling all over the boots she’s strutting in. But it’s not all wilted flowers, with Lambert finding a new lease on love on “Right Where We Left It.” A glowy, windows-down reunion that’s full of optimism. Lambert plays with the extremes of emotions while keeping everything under one big sparkly umbrella.
Then there’s “A Song To Sing,” Lambert’s duet with Chris Stapleton, pulsing with a funky bass groove, gushy and suave all at once. You can’t help but infer that it’s her own take on that aforementioned Parton staple, another nod to a predecessor made anew through soulful harmonies and a head-nodding backbeat. It’s the lead single and essentially the thesis for what a lot of Crisco hangs its hat on, an infectious groove that’s supplemented by a talent who’s surpassed any genre limitations. Even if some of those winks might elicit an eye roll (like the party-starter-turned-corny jingle “Whiskey Business”), they’re so few and far between that the highlights outshine any failed attempts to get the whole barroom in on the chant.
Ella Langley’s “Choosin’ Texas,” effectively the biggest country song of the century, penned in part by Lambert, could be considered the teaser for this full-fledged rebrand. It’s a sleek, shiny reinvention of the honky-tonk standard that adds some gloss to the steel and brushes up the drums in time for a little more than a simple two-step. There are flecks of that mindset sprinkled throughout Lambert’s latest, where the seasoned veteran takes another stab at versatility and sinks right into the heart of what makes both genres at play here so enduring. When factoring in her practice, it’s not surprising how natural she sounds in this specific instance. Lambert took agency over her spot as a star a while ago, but Crisco might be where she finally learned to let her hair down as she navigates new terrain.
