Little Wide Open – Kevin Morby – Album Review
by Cathy Brown

There is a confidence to Little Wide Open, Kevin Morby’s tenth album, that feels transformative. Morby has always flirted with grandeur, but here — aided immeasurably by Aaron Dessner’s expansive production — he finally sounds like an artist fully inhabiting his ambitions.

Dessner’s fingerprints are all over the record, though thankfully not in the overly polished, prestige-indie way that can flatten personality. Instead, these are warm “in the room” arrangements, ripe with detail but open to the space around the notes. The richness of the instrumentation has room to breathe, while Morby’s voice sits comfortably at the centre, world-weary yet comforting. It is a sound that is cinematic without becoming self-important.

There is also an undeniable sense of occasion surrounding the album. Lucinda Williams appears in a guest role on ‘Natural Disaster’ that lends extra gravel and gravity, while Justin Vernon (Bon Iver) also makes an appearance. Novelist Rachel Kushner has contributed an accompanying essay to the album, which adds another layer of literary cachet and star power to the project. Yet Little Wide Open earns its stature on the strength of the music rather than the names attached to it.

Stylistically, the album is described as a reflection of Morby’s “time spent on the road” criss-crossing America and it often recalls Tom Petty at his most reflective – folk rock built for long highway drives. The title track is a genuinely lovely ballad with a subtle country vibe, all soft edges and melancholy with Morby sounding both vulnerable and assured. Elsewhere, ‘100,000’ and ‘Dandelion’ arrive like arena-ready set pieces, with brass sections and huge choruses ready for the festival circuit. ‘Cowtown’ and ‘Bible Belt’ pull things inward again, leaning heavily into folk traditions with distinct echoes of Simon and Garfunkel. The sounds are delicate, the storytelling sharply observed, and there is an understated elegance throughout that prevents nostalgia from turning into imitation. The highlight of the album is recent single ‘Javelin,’ an ambitious centrepiece with a genuinely massive hook buried inside its winding structure. It is the sort of song that keeps unfolding on repeated listens, revealing new textures with each listen.

What makes Little Wide Open so compelling is that it never settles for being merely tasteful, but instead it revels in genuine atmosphere. Too much contemporary Americana mistakes restraint for profundity, but here Morby (and Dessner) understands that sometimes songs need to take up space.

As Morby sings on album closer, the lovely ‘Field Guide for the Butterflies,’ “this is just me, trying to grow wings.” In that respect, he has been more than successful, producing an album that soars.