In 2008, Josiah Leming appeared on American Idol, after which he landed a contract with Warner Bros., resulting in 2010’s pop-inflected Come on Kid. Leaving Warner, he went his own way, embracing a folk sound and releasing Josiah and the Bonnevilles’ debut EP, Cold Blood, in 2016. Later albums, such as 2021’s Motel Mayday and 2023’s Endurance, underscored Leming’s aesthetic potential.
His new album, As Is, however, is distinctly his “arrival” set. Instrumentation is tasteful, complementary, and at times entrancing. The production approach, including notable mixes, panning, and effects, aptly spotlights Leming’s poetic raggedness on the one hand and his indomitable belief in rock glory on the other. It’s Leming’s songcraft, though, that carries the day: his seasoned use of imagery and metaphor, his honed ability to forge and deliver a hook.
Throughout As Is, Leming is eloquent and frequently vulnerable. His voice on “Good Boy” is alternately gravelly, strained, and relaxed, as he strives to live a wholesome life, “working on the bike” and “saving up for a pickup truck”. Yet, when he declares, “I don’t think of you / I ain’t got the time”, we grasp that this is exactly what he’s doing, staying busy to distract himself from the fallout of a broken relationship. Though only passingly mentioned, this rupture of the heart is central to the song, defining its tone.
“Hell Without the Flames”, meanwhile, is built around an unshakeable acoustic riff and a delectable southern-goth ambiance. The singer’s job is a “goddamn grind”. There are “cracks in the pavement” and “cracks in [his] heart of stone”. Leming evokes the panic one feels when life seems incongruent with one’s aspirations, when the gulf between reality and a desired future seems utterly unbridgeable. Yet a life force, egoic and spiritual, propels the singer forward, keeping him motivated and determined to follow his muse (and/or his ambition).
Like Bob Dylan, Connor Oberst, and Adrianne Lenker, among others, Leming has a gift for nuanced phrasing, subtly modulating his voice in ways that compel a listener. With “Going Gone”, he conveys wistfulness, grief, regret, and hopefulness via micro yet significant shifts in cadence. His melody moves between folksy casualness and pop swagger, recalling Jake Bugg’s debut. “One Day at a Time” shows Leming similarly narrating an emotional journey as he moves through self-castigation toward self-acceptance, his voice occasionally reminiscent of Sturgill Simpson circa A Sailor’s Guide to Earth.
Leming embraces an abstract, impressionistic lyric in “Youth and Dreams”. “I found God on a burned CD,” he sings, adding, “My mind was on tires and gasoline”. Here, meaning eludes literal or straightforward interpretation, landing more affectively or associatively. We’re moved, even transported by the coalescence of melody, timbre, and phrase, a unique aesthetic gestalt prompting or triggering a unique response, depending on the listener’s history, current state, and overall receptivity.
“Mountain Girl” is As Is’s country moment, replete with a heavily strummed guitar and a Shakey Graves-esque harmonica part. Leming lauds rurality, contrasting “blue skies” and “the river” with “computers” and “the age of the great uncertain man”. He wants to meet a woman, “beautiful and plain”, and set up shop in Eden, where they can live happily ever after. Yet, his tone is ironic: one senses that despite his idealizations, undoubtedly sincere, Leming could never fully surrender to the life he imagines. Simplicity is fine and good until it actually arrives; at that point, things can get quite complicated.
Brimming with intriguing portraits, vivid images, and crystalline melodies, the songs on Josiah and the Bonnevilles’ As Is convey urgency, that it’s important to create, to be true to ourselves, and to practice resilience. Though an affinity for the tragic is hard-baked into his songs, Leming, like Bruce Springsteen, also holds tightly to a romantic and redemptive vision: love, wholeness, and belonging are possible; a great song can change the world.