Chances are you have never heard of Jesse Welles. If you have, it’s likely because you’ve been pulled into his orbit filled with weekly viral videos and social commentary. If you’re still listening, one can assume your views align with his progressive politics. Even if Welles builds on a history of protest music, he has a way of pointing out imbalances in power, stupidity, and atrocities in a frank and darkly comical manner that feels refreshing.
While it may seem like Welles just burst onto the scene, the Northwest Arkansas native has been recording music over the past 13 years in various formats and under assumed names. However, he has fully settled in with his latest, the Eddie Spear-produced (Sierra Ferrell, Zach Bryan, Colby Acuff) Middle. As a record, it feels more sophisticated than what listeners have come to expect, especially those looking for alt-country-flavored tunes and not just a man equipped with his guitar and his beliefs.
Middle kicks off with lead single “Horses”, taking a page (more like a plaintive fiddle) from Bob Dylan‘s “Hurricane”. The track examines an age-old predicament, the need to rail against people and institutions causing injustice, and the weight one carries in doing so. In the chorus, he sings, “You know I really thought that there’d be power / In thinking half of y’all was just born fools / Thought I was gathering oats for my horses / I was getting by whipping my mules.” It’s a mature reflection from an artist who has made his living by calling out the bad guy.
Welles shines on the alternative country ballads, which proves he is more than just a troubadour busking online for likes. “Certain” is a rambling tune with harmonica and steel guitar that evokes a sense of longing despite the upbeat spirit. “Simple Gifts” features his dexterous finger plucking matched only by his comforting tone. “Why Don’t You Love Me” trembles with desperation and longing. One can hear Ryan Adams and Josh Ritter in these moments, but Welles steps out from behind their towering shadows to claim his own style.
Due to Welles’ vocal delivery and affinity for protest music, the Bob Dylan comparisons will abound. Raspy vocalists are a dime a dozen in alternative country. However, Welles’ voice contains depth that allows for unexpected reference points, ranging from artists as vastly different as Matt Shultz from Cage the Elephant (“I’m Sorry”) and Elliott Smith (“Fear is the Mind Killer”).
Attempts to transform beyond an artist primarily known for witty turns of phrase are well noted. “Rocket Man” lays out an epic of Biblical proportions, and the grand scope will take you back to a time when an artist’s bravado manifested in muscular sounds pumping from the amp. The Southern rock style is certainly compelling, even if the rest of the record doesn’t quite match the same ambition.
Similarly, the album-closing title track sets Marc Bolan’s folk sounds down in the center of Heart of Darkness and Star Wars, with a wink and a nod to current politics (“You have heard it said ‘Make it great again’ / Make your own self great / That’s a good place to begin”).
In Middle, Welles seeks to balance the personal with the collective. “Anything But Me” and “Every Grain of Sand” are deeply introspective as he wrestles with themes of self-determination and our limited time on earth. “War Is a God” considers humankind’s natural inclination toward bloodshed, eventually surrendering to it: “And that’s the story of the whole world / I can’t seem to make it stop.” With the songwriter’s penchant for the philosophical, nuggets of Buddhist existentialism can be found sprinkled throughout the LP.
If listeners thought Jesse Welles was one-dimensional, he proves to be well-versed in many of the hallmarks of Americana, ranging from front porch strumming to loose and freewheeling rock and roll. Like many of the masters before him (Pete Seeger, Dylan, Neil Young), he incorporates history, mythology, and religion with ease, proving he’s not just a songsmith for contemporary times. On Middle, new and old fans alike will find plenty to appreciate in what feels like Welles’ first fully formed effort.