For the past decade, Willie Nelson‘s albums have tended to be particularly focused in one of two directions, both of which make sense for an artist in his 90s with about 100 albums to his name. Many of them, like Bluegrass or My Way, rework or otherwise pay tribute to old songs, whether his or someone else’s. Other albums took a particularly somber look at aging and the end of life. That theme ran most notably through his “Mortality Trilogy” (God’s Problem Child, Last Man Standing, and Ride Me Back Home), but even First Rose of Spring had it as an undercurrent even as he took more lighthearted turns. Nelson seemed to have processed all of that solemnity by the recording of A Beautiful Time, a nice but slight record that felt a little weightless after its predecessor. Now he returns with The Border, one of his best late-era albums, largely thanks to his ability to subtly settle heft into a record that ostensibly arrives as a simple, almost straightforward country LP.
If A Beautiful Time was suffered some from merely containing Willie being Willie, The Border benefits from here. The songs are better here, and the mix of moods works perfectly as one of America’s finest vocalists powerfully interprets well-chosen (and well-written) music. The opening title track sets the tone for the record. Originally written and recorded by Rodney Crowell, “The Border” gives voice to a Border Patrol agent dealing with the challenges of his work. The track avoids politicization, instead focusing on the human details of the situation at the US-Mexico border. Nelson sings, “I come home to Maria in a bulletproof vest / With the weight of the whole wide world bearing down on my chest,” and the whole situation takes on a painful presence.
As the track ends, it feels as if Willie Nelson could spin a whole Southwestern world into being, but he shows no interest in such a project. Escaping conceptual ties allows him simply to focus on excellent versions of high-quality songs. “Once Upon a Yesterday” is one of several of his collaborations with songwriting partner Buddy Cannon. The cut could have been a classic Nelson number, and while its 2024 release might lend its reflections on the past some extra gravitas, its lyricism and delivery give it an inherent strength. “Hank’s Guitar” (by Cannon and Bobby Tomberlin) provides another look back, as Nelson has “a dream that I was Hank’s guitar”. Rather than merely imagining what it would have been like to be present at such monumental moments as Hank Williams writing “Your Cheatin’ Heart”, Nelson sings of the connection between pain and art and the way that identity can be informed by music and the creative process.
Not all of The Border feels so heavy, even if it maintains emotional depth. “Kiss Me When You’re Through” is a clever little Nelson/Cannon composition, finding a new angle to speak in a complicated and honest relationship setting. Similarly, “Nobody Knows Me Like You” looks at a partner with maturity and vulnerability, a hard-won love song. Romantic love comes through on much of the album, but geographic love has its part, too. “Made in Texas” is a fun romp about how Nelson’s home state has shaped him. For all the seriousness in the album, there’s still plenty of room to joke; Nelson’s music has more than one means of catharsis.
The Border closes with “How Much Does It Cost”, which asks about the price of freedom, not in a political sense, but in an emotional and artistic one. For decades, Nelson’s art has been a means to freedom from heartache for a large audience, but Nelson wonders how he can process his emotions through his performances in a way that will actually grant relief. It’s a poignant and heavy question to ask on your hundredth record. Fortunately for us, Nelson keeps probing. He’s examined his favorite music. He’s thought about death. Now he’s just being Willie Nelson, leading to an album that stands out even in his current era of critical success.