How has Jim James not named an album Wowed Out already? With the classic rock fireworks and cosmic adventures of My Morning Jacket and his solo work alike, the phrase feels so apt that it could almost scan as self-parody. Yet James’ fifth solo album and first in eight years both plays into and thwarts expectations, his boundless voice suggesting it is, in fact, possible to hit capacity. Wielding an array of his wheelhouse sounds with acuity and warmth, James returns with an album whose maybe-goofy-maybe-pensive title allows him to dance between world-weariness and renewed awe, resulting in his best work in a decade.
Wowed Out arrives somewhat out of nowhere, following a 2020s thus far spent with the revival of My Morning Jacket after the band nearly collapsed in on itself amid the grueling tours following 2015’s The Waterfall. During something of an unofficial hiatus, James was busy with solo material. Wowed Out originates from a vault of songs he originally worked on in the early ’10s with Brian Reitzell, the former Red Kross drummer, Air collaborator, and composer who provided music for several Sofia Coppola films. With much of the sketches destined for unrealized film scores, they sat untouched until James revisited them in the fall of last year.
No score yet, be the first to add.
The triumph of My Morning Jacket’s return was relative. For longtime fans, it was a joy to see the band resurrected, reportedly happier and healthier, still leaving scorched earth behind on any stage they visited. Yet the would-be comeback albums of 2021’s self-titled and 2025’s is felt more like ideas of what a My Morning Jacket album should be than My Morning Jacket albums that pushed the envelope the way their best work had. Though not without their highlights, the albums’ often streamlined production yielded a rote sense of attempted grandeur, gesturing at past highs rather than seeking new ones. On Wowed Out, James sounds unburdened even when singing about the weight of the modern world. He moves with subtlety and grace, perhaps liberated from the expectations of MMJ’s resurgence.
Wowed Out is a predominantly mellow affair. James’ melodies seem to materialize and unspool, an unforced reclamation of the mystery that once permeated his writing. The now-familiar blend of folk, soul, and psychedelia dominates the album aesthetically, though James took spiritual cues from recordings of meditative organ performances by Alice Coltrane. There are moments on Wowed Out when a younger James would have howled, would have ventured all the way out to sea, would have let his guitar erupt. These things don’t happen here, and that’s by design. Given MMJ’s calling cards, this may seem counterintuitive, but it works entirely to Wowed Out’s benefit. Beautiful choruses abound, but instead of going stratospheric, songs like “We Love Our Life” simmer as mantras in a humid fever dream.
Forever a master of evocative opening tracks, James lets Wowed Out drift into existence with “Baby Dear.” Layered background sighs, a resonant lead vocal, autumnal acoustic guitar flickers, synths both eerie and trippy—James has all his tricks on tap. The same goes for the starlit electric arpeggios shimmering around a gorgeous, conversational melody in “Hands On,” or the way he’s become more adept at blending his rock DNA with soul affectations in “Lost Child.” For all the ways these elements could feel overwrought on recent MMJ outings, here they feel inherent, natural.
