The place is America. The time is the Present. The band is The Welfare Liners, and the album is High on a Hilltop. This is a good record. Let me say that again. This is a good record. There aren’t any bells or whistles. These are settled and experienced folk musicians, and they are writing songs. Good songs. Good songs with good lyrics—stories of miserable Americans from the past, the brown days of America, the dirt days. These songs are precise and pertinent distillations of personal conflicts with tight, economical arrangements. That’s what separates traditional folk music such as this from most modern country and “folk” music.

The fact that I’m able to make that distinction isn’t so much evidence of my insight as it is the quality and integrity of The Welfare Liners as a group. This is the type of music where you just can’t fake sincerity—any flippancy in this style would be immediately identifiable as intentional satire. Again, this isn’t popular country, or country-rock. It’s bluegrass. It’s American roots music, and it’s coming up out of the American soil, not bastardized or homogenized.

The songs themselves are completely enjoyable. The characters in the stories the songs tell are completely contained in the songs themselves. That is to say, there is no apparent frontman to the band. It’s democratic—that’s how bluegrass works. Still, credit must be given where it is due: Adam Poulin’s fiddle playing is exceptional, as is Wayne Wilson’s banjo. Both musicians fill soloing space with fluid intensity. Consider this album heartily recommended.