The flaw in the aphorism “every crisis is an opportunity” is that it leaves out the most critical element of the situation: opportunities don’t mean much unless you step up to meet the moment.
Americana singer-songwriter David Luning’s 2017 sophomore release Restless helped land him gigs opening for the likes of John Hiatt, Tedeschi Trucks Band, Chris Isaak and Donovan Frankenreiter. The John Prine acolyte was building a following, gaining confidence and momentum, when out of the blue, a brick wall appeared in his windshield: the pandemic.
Stuck at home, Luning turned inward and set about building something new: a home studio, and a fresh catalog of songs, ones that dug deeper and felt truer than anything he’d written before. When the time was right, he reconvened his longtime backing band of Ben Dubin (bass and harmonica), Linden Reed (drums), and Dave Sampson (guitars and mandolin) and set up shop at the Petaluma, California studio of Damien Lewis (The Wood Brothers, Larkin Poe, Lizzo), who produced, recorded and mixed the resulting album.
The first impression of Lessons is of an album out of place and time. The spacious, haunted, acoustic-and-electric arrangement of kickoff cut “Every Day I Am”—a gritty, familiar tale of an outlaw on the run—smacks of classic Southern rock; two minutes in, if you’d told me Lessons was a lost album from a guy who’d opened for Lynyrd Skynyrd in 1974, I might have believed you. A rangy slide solo over the fade only seals the impression.
Speaking of haunted, it feels like the story told in “Every Day I Am” continues on the next track as the narrator contemplates his future destination “Down Below.” There’s something almost theatrical about Luning’s delivery on this widescreen, anguished country-blues; it reminds a bit of Kaleo at times, while also suggesting that Luning’s previous ambition of scoring films remains a part of his musical vocabulary.
“The Way It Goes” takes things in a more upbeat direction, with a philosophical bent to the lyric and a nice push to it that reminds you of how Southern rock manages to blend rhythm and blues into the mix. Then “Ain't Easy to Love Me” strips things back to just acoustic guitar and Luning’s comfortably lived-in voice. “I know life with me is hard sometimes… It ain’t easy to love me / But you do” he sings as the band comes in and the song develops a kind of cantering, dusty-trail rhythm. “Goodnight” follows with a bit of gentle country-folk, a wistful farewell after a date that didn’t go to plan; it’s not soul-crushing, just a little sad.
Title track “Lessons” is clearly the album’s topic sentence, arranged to emphasize Luning’s powerful vocal and lyric. “Off in the distance, running away from me / I see the man that I’m supposed to be / Thank God I’ve learned a little from these things / Otherwise I know they’d be the death of me” he sings with fierce intention. The space Luning and Lewis leave lets the song breathe deep over Reed’s kick-drum heartbeat, with Dubin adding a little wail of harmonica as the band works up to a satisfying crescendo.
After that peak, the album gets quieter but no less intriguing. “The Moon Looks Cool Tonight” is a mellow, rambling acoustic number, a gentle interlude. Then “The World Goes Around Again” offers a philosophical feel as Luning tries to orient himself in a disorienting world.
“You Like The Rain” is a late highlight, a sweet acoustic-and-voice ode to the ways love changes us: he starts out hating the rain, but his girlfriend loves it so much that he comes around (“You came along, my love, and everything changed”). The album closes with “Out of My Head,” which starts out primarily acoustic but with a warm intensity, aided by some fiddle, that builds to a nice finish. And I certainly related to this lyric: “If I could only get out of my head / I could see the world for all its promises,” he sings, strings adding drama as the song builds to a spacious, beautiful conclusion.
Fueled by Luning’s rich, resonant vocals and heartfelt lyrics, Lessons feels like an artist meeting his moment and levelling up. This is a terrific album of modern Americana, full of heart and insight, framed beautifully with subtle yet superb playing and production. Don’t miss it.