Dylan Earl is that friend your parents never wanted you to hang out with. They knew he had a healthy disrespect for authority and would rather drive around smoking than do anything constructive. His love of nature trumped his desire to do chores. He wasn’t lazy; he just didn’t understand what was better than hanging out in the woods or cruising the byways. At least, that’s how he comes across on his latest album, the complacently titled Level-Headed Even Smile. He’s sitting on top of the world on his “Lawn Chair” and invites you to accompany him in the backyard. You can hear him pop a top as he invites one to join him.
The Arkansas traveler wants you to “Get in the Truck”, where the radio and the road take one wherever one’s going. He gets high just being in the Ouachita National Forest in the Natural State. The simple pleasures of mountain life in the “White River Valley” (a Jimmy Driftwood cover) can be found in bird songs and the sighing of pine trees. Earl can be corny and old-fashioned, but his smooth voice bleeds sincerity. There are traces of classic country in his purposeful Merle Haggard-style delivery. Earl never seems to strain to reach a note.
That doesn’t mean the singer-songwriter’s content. Earl sings about hitting rock bottom in Little Rock and clearly enjoys hitting the bottle too much to deal with the pain of heartbreak. “I guess I’ll sober up when I’m dead,” he sings with a smirk. That contrasts with the satisfied persona who finds solace in nature. He needs a dose of wildlife to insulate him from the hurt of daily life. This push and pull keeps the album from sounding too similar from one track to the next.
Something is missing here, and that’s other people. Earl may have friends and family, but they scarcely make an appearance in his lyrics. He claims to be “Two Kinds of Loner”, but we really don’t know why. Sure, hell can be other people, but so can heaven.
Earl’s sense of humor keeps things from getting too heavy. His take on outlaw country inverts the Charlie Kirk perspective on empathy. He notes “White privilege is real” and rails against the hypocrisy of those with authority and sings with an affected drawl to show his Southern roots. Why, he’s just a good ol’ boy, NOT! He’s funny, but he is serious.
As the title song says, the singer-songwriter aspires to be on even keel. That mostly means being alone while complaining about or celebrating being alone. He can find that mental state somewhere in the Arkansas woods, in the bottom of the bottle, or just taking a drive through the country, but it does seem that he can’t stay levelheaded for long. There is always something to disrupt his inner peace. Dylan Earl needs a friend or more friends or even a lover, but he seems like the character one’s parents warned about. He may waste your time, but he would be a good pal.