featuring the very best of americana, alt.country and roots music
October 20, 2026
Scott Foley, purveyor of dust
This week's prime releases included new stuff from Sadurn, Arborist and @, each of which we considered reviewing at some point. We peeked at next Friday's torrent of albums and entertained a fleeting moment of gratitude for this week's relatively gentle onslaught. So we're fine.
IF YOU ONLY LiSTEN to ONE RECORD THiS WEEK
The byline for Birmingham's Cornelius Chapel Records is We've never heard of you either. We like that. Over the years, the label has distributed some great artists like the Dexateens, Will Stewart, and Janet Simpson, stuff that might otherwise fall (further) between the cushions. Cornelius Chapel also released Kyle Kimbrell's 2024 Easy Truths collection. In our review, we were drawn to the Birminghamian's championing of novelists like Brad Watson, Harry Crews, Larry Brown and Ron Rash. Songs like "Interstate Living" and "Shape I'm In" were indicative of Kimbrell's early promise.
Cornelius Chapel has released a follow-up to that record, Lonesome In the Sky. Once again alongside producer/instrumentalist Brad Lyons, Kyle Kimbrell delivers a collection of tracks steeped in the sounds and stories of the Southeast. "Paperbacks" serves as a reminder of where we've been, a resolute electric guitar line burning from one end to the other: Could it be just an old story / Written through life / They claim God gold and glory / Look how that worked out. Kimbrell's muscular delivery recalls the heyday of Jay Farrar and Son Volt, and on the opening cut he is firmly in that pocket. While not a pop writer, his commitment to accessible melody makes songs like "Helmet Head" sticky. A rolling bass drives that number forward into Southern rock territory,
Like Lee Bains, Kyle Kimbrell's work drops push-pins in real places and tangible things. On the midtempo "Grocery Cart Ordeal", he surveys a hazy cityscape: I summon up some courage / To not hate my hometown ... I hear its call. The pedal steel and barroom piano of "Maker" lend the piece a decidedly country flair, the singer drawling, I can't explain why the world went insane / Outside my bedroom window. Kimbrell constructs his songs from swept-together moments and fleeting observations, his lyrics as conversational as an overheard aside between coworkers.
Especially across the second half of Lonesome, Kimbrell gives rein to the blues colors on his palette, from the sidewinding electric guitar on "Demagogue" to the sly slide acoustic of "Bad Apple". Like Kelly Joe Phelps, he glides naturally between influences. "She Feels Like Home" is a sweetly loose expression of love and longing, whether for a person or place: She's piece of a puzzle / Keeps me out of trouble / And always on my knees. "No That's Not Me" provides a signpost for where Kyle Kimbrell might be headed, cloaked in the echo of free-floating guitar and never quite stepping beyond a minor key haze. It's not that short of a rope / I'm hanging on by my neck / My feet so close to the ground / I just can't put my toes down, he sings, closing the project on a curiously dark note.
At the end of his rope, or crossing a threshold into an uncertain future, it's increasingly worth keeping an ear trained to Kyle Kimbrell. Lonesome In the Sky isn't always a feel-good album, but like the novelists he admires he doesn't mislead us for the sake of making party music or pretty noise. From his vantage, through the haze, the world can be an uncertain place. Kimbrell's truths aren't always easy.
--------------------------






