Country music gets a bad rap. Admittedly, much of the vitriol is deserved, especially in the sanitized, cookie-cutter blandification of the Nashville-churned pop country that has come to dominate the genre.

But even the most scathing and accurate criticisms of country music fall flat in the face of Jason Isbell.

When I was first introduced to Isbell, I heard someone call him “your favorite songwriter’s favorite songwriter.” His prowess was likened to legends like John Prine and Bob Dylan. Those are impossibly high standards, but his 2020 album Reunions somehow lives up to them.

After cutting his teeth as a member of alt-country icons Drive-By Truckers and working as a songwriter for a number of various artists, Isbell struck out as a solo artist. He failed to garner too much attention with the first few releases, but his presence exploded after the release of Southeastern, an intimate, heartbreakingly confessional record following his stint at rehab.

Reunions hits a little harder musically, and it isn’t quite as stark as Southeastern, but there is still a vulnerability that only comes from someone who has come back from rock bottom and knows all too well how easy it would be to return to it. In fact, the stakes of that loss are even higher upon the birth of his first child (with his wife and 400 Unit fiddle player Amanda Shires).

There is joy and contentment in these songs, but they are delicate and fragile, like the childhood reflection of “Dreamsicle” that looks back on the simple pleasures of young summers in the shade of his parents’ divorce. “Only Children” is intimate and gorgeous, remembering a cherished childhood friend who passed away unexpectedly. At the same time, the song is about Isbell’s relationship with his former, pre-sobriety self.

At other times, the record looks deep within, offering challenges for constant improvement, hinting at silhouettes of the twelve-step programs that doubtlessly led to and sustained his sobriety. Across the record, he makes amends with those he’s hurt (including himself), takes inventory of his own deficincies, recognizes powers greater than himself, and admits his shortcomings with frightening clarity. “What’ve I Done To Help” opens the record with a stark self-indictment of his own intentions. The roaring lead single “Be Afraid” condemns both his own cowardice and that of the listener, calling us all to push past our fear to the freedom on the other side for once. “It Gets Easier” deals with sobriety in clearest terms, talking of a dream of relapse and offering the refrain, “It gets easier, but it never gets easy.”

But throughout the record, the songs are aided by incredible arrangements and killer performances. The lead guitar work alone is worth the price of the disc. The solos are acrobatic and engaging without being overly flashy. The last few minutes of “What’ve I Done to Help” burns across the sky with a soaring solo. “Overseas” is a little more grounded, but no less muscular. The band keeps pace with the lead without ever feeling deficient, which is a tall order. David Crosby even joins the backing vocals in a couple spots!

While the 400 Unit has a way of bringing fearsome rock and roll to these songs without being overbearing or schlocky, the band is maybe at their best when they keep themselves from going all out. Take for example the gorgeous midtempo track “Running With Our Eyes Closed,” which is dark and brooding without relying on loud drums or dirty guitars—though the synth pads and feedback squeals do hint at a little more Joy Division fandom than the average country band. In other places, the band pulls back almost entirely, such as “St. Peter’s Autograph,” which is barely adorned besides Isbell’s voice and guitar. The rare skill they display, of course, is the discernment to know when they should pull back and when they should let the beast out of its cage.

In the end, the combination of Isbell’s writing and the band’s pitch-perfect arrangements makes Reunions an album that is not to be missed—regardless of how you usually feel about country music. If you love it, there’s plenty to love here. If you don’t, it might just change your mind.