Patterson Hood’s passion for film has fed the numerous themed records he has released with Drive-By Truckers, from their calling card Southern Rock Opera to the myth-busting, incendiary The Dirty South. Hood’s latest solo album is a quietly powerful, frequently unnerving series of snapshots of his life. Exploding Trees and Airplane Screams is a showcase for the other side of Hood’s brilliance as a songwriter, a series of evocative stories with cinematic attention to detail.
At times, it is unsettling how the details of the lyrics bump against the pretty, lush arrangements. These songs would be highlights on a Drive-By Trucker’s record, but wouldn’t fit a Truckers show’s raucous, celebratory energy. In the hands of a master storyteller like Hood, it’s easy to imagine these being an evocative collection of short films as they hang together naturally, as they do as a record.
Hood has been planning a collaboration with the Decemberists‘ Chris Funk for a while now, and this is the first time they’ve worked on a studio project together. Spurred by a challenge from Funk, Hood played piano on the record, which he had not planned to do, but this is an inspired choice. As a performer and writer, Hood has never played it safe or phoned it in, and something is exciting about him working through an autobiographical song cycle without his tool of choice. It is as though he’s looking at the events of his life in these songs through a new lens.
The songs proceed in reverse chronological order, beginning with “Exploding Trees”, a ballad about an ice storm in his hometown in 1994. It sets the tone for the remainder of the collection–stark images captured by Hood’s inimitable eye and pen balanced by soulful arrangements.
Another highlight is “A Werewolf and a Girl”, which features Lydia Loveless on vocals with Hood in a breakup song filled with tears, unhappy sex between two unhappy people, and a watch of An American Werewolf in London. Loveless is a perfect choice for the foil in this song.
“The Forks of Cypress” features Waxahatchee. It recalls one of those great songs on a Drive-By Truckers record that hits even harder because it provides a respite from the rowdy rockers. Hood and Alison Crutchfield pair beautifully on vocals, and it’s easy to imagine the joys a collaborative album would produce.
“The Pool House” is an unsettling noir about suicide, which Hood has tackled before, but never with these shades. The matter-of-factness is chilling. Wednesday, who Hood has cited as his favorite new band, appears on the one song that would fit nicely into a Truckers set, “The Van Pelt Parties”, one of the very best songs on the record. The band gels with Hood perfectly, which is unsurprising, given Wednesday’s affinity for the Truckers and their own country-tinged noise rock.
Hood saves the best for last, though. “Pinocchio” is the type of song most songwriters would be remembered for, but with Hood’s resume, it’s merely one of his finest moments. Chronologically, this is the oldest story, detailing young Patterson’s obsession with the Disney classic and seamlessly weaving in his current reflective state. The gently strummed guitars and shared wisdom bring the record to a satisfying, hopeful end.
Hood’s solo output over the years has been intermittent; it’s been 13 years since his previous solo record. At this rate, we may not get many more of these, all the more reason to savor the lower-key pleasures of Exploding Trees and Airplane Screams. It showcases his gifts as a storyteller with a director’s eye and is one of the best records of his career.