For a couple of decades America was choosin’ Carrie Underwood, Morgan Wallen, and Jason Aldean before Miranda Lambert; then Ella Langley’s “Choosin’ Texas,” co-written and co-produced by Lambert, turned into the longest-running No. 1 single ever. The timing for a new album is ideal, and Crisco arrives with no shortage of confidence—Lambert may have released a couple blah albums, but not one is half-assed. Crisco numbers among the blah ones, alas, which pains me because for a long time this country act was my favorite pop artist in any genre.
Working with new producer Jesse Frasure and a new band, including hubby Brendan McLoughlin as occasional cowriter, Lambert has recorded a spotless, bubblelicious approximation of late-’70s country disco: the era of Bill Anderson’s “I Can’t Wait Any Longer” and Mel McDaniel’s “Baby’s Got Her Blue Jeans On,” not to mention the late Dolly Parton’s “Baby I’m Burnin’.” A thoughtfully arranged string section supports more than half the tracks. The problem with Crisco isn’t the clean bell-bottomed drag: her buddies Brandy Clark and Ashley Monroe slipped into it fuss-free several years ago. It’s the humdrum writing.
No score yet, be the first to add.
Lambert can inhabit many roles, but she’s at her most convincing when acting feral (the mode that, “Mama’s Broken Heart” aside, country radio has liked least). “Cuttin’ Onions” ranks with the best of her Songs About Stuff. Over Dann Huff’s complementary guitar licks and Aaron Sterling’s exclamatory kick drum, Lambert rhymes “Vidalia” and “tell ya” for the sake of a dork not worth a tear. She, Langley, and co-writer Natalie Hemby slither through “Snakeskin Boots,” a Western noir complete with Ennio Morricone-like ambience about a femme fatale who slips through a hangman’s noose. Playing the most terrifying version of the devil women entombed in the songs by male country palookas, Lambert is fully realized. No wonder her fast ones have trouble going Top 10.
