Back in 2005 I had the pleasure of seeing a then-13-year-old Sarah Jarosz in cut-offs and black high-tops shredding her mandolin on a couple of bluegrass numbers in the spot she’d earned by winning the previous year’s youth talent contest at Old Settler’s Music Festival. Several of the other acts that year invited her up for some additional stage time during their sets and she outshone some well-established names. It wasn’t hard to believe she was going to be some kind of bluegrass wunderkind and you would have gotten agreement on that from virtually all the festival goers. And yet we would have all undercalled the success she would achieve, so far beyond those bluegrass borders.
Sarah is about to release her 7th full length album, Polaroid Lovers, and it showcases the style that’s helped propel her to 4 Grammy wins and an additional handful of nominations. The record starts with Jealous Moon, a power pop number that would land on Top 40 radio, if such a thing still existed. Next up is When the Lights Go Out, which has a little more of a folk sound. It’s the source of the lyric that gave the album it’s name and and alludes to the theme of the release where every song is a snap shot of a relationship, from early to just about over. That last phase is featured in Dying Ember, with a little more of a rock sound in the rhythm section, noting that “after everything that led us here, I don’t want to watch it disappear.
The soaring, slightly haunting vocals that Jarosz honed on her earlier projects make an early appearance on Columbus & 89th. It’s a love song to her time in NYC, with a bit of nostalgia about the Upper West Side after she realized that part of her life was past. Don’t Break Down On Me is kind of a fun little tune comparing a relationship to a car on a lonely road late at night. Days Can Turn Around is a nice country shuffle about the words of wisdom from one’s mom. It has such a down-home sound you can almost hear the screen door slam in the background on a lazy summer day. Mezcal and Lime was inspired by a trip to Oaxaca and could be the theme song for a 60’s movie with Cary Grant and Audrey Hepburn, with its lounge jazz meets beach vibe style.
I have to profess I didn’t listen much to the last couple of Sarah Jarosz’ albums. I tend to the twangy, and she’d long ago shed her bluegrass skin, occasional stints on NPR aside. What I realized, listening to Polaroid Lovers, is that her multi-dimensional talent had to start somewhere. The fact it was in bluegrass continues to flavor her songs with an authenticity that goes well beyond just her instrumental prowess. And Polaroid Lovers has a well-deserved place in a Twangville playlist.
About the author: I've actually driven from Tehatchapee to Tonopah. And I've seen Dallas from a DC-9 at night.