#roughrider

The best place to start with Roughrider might be right at the end with “I Hope It’s Different.” The alt-country ensemble SIlkworm’s Tim Midyett has been writing for and helming with the steady assistance of bassist Matthew Barnhart, guitarist Justin Brown and drummer Jeff Panall is here led by Nina Nastasia on vocals instead — an acclaimed songwriter in her own right whose “That’s All There Is” Silkworm covered way back in 2003. Nastasia looks optimistically to what comes next as she sings “I hope it’s different / Not just another good time / Insulated by uncomfortable lies” set to the band’s twangy slow dance and given added flourish by Poi Dog Pondering’s Susan Voelz organization of the strings. It’s like opening a window and walking outside, the promise of fresh air and a new environment before you after Midyett’s scrawling shifts and meandering moods.

That doesn’t mean “I Hope It’s Different” is the best song here, exactly. Mint Mile has taken up the mantle of the kind of unspooling Americana Jason Molina used to excel at so well, which is a funny thing to say given Roughrider’s brevity relative to Ambertron. Even so, the band is firing on all cylinders here regardless of track length; “Interpretive Outlook” does every bit as much with its sub-three-minute runtime as “Brigadier” does pushing eight. The breadth of musicianship is on full display and Midyett’s songwriting expands or contracts to fit the music as needed; his roughened, unsparing delivery had me recalling early Jets to Brazil and Lucero.

But perhaps even more so than Ambertron, this is a record about community. To wit: The band shines brightest when the core four are accompanied, which is almost always. The fluid grace of Brown’s pedal steel guitar and Barnhart and Panall’s anchoring rhythm section never sounds better than when there’s just a little something extra — Susan Voelz’s violin, say, or Alison Chesley’s cello. I was disappointed to discover frequent associate Howard Draper did not bring back the “magic spackling thing” as a credit from Ambertron, but nevertheless, his piano, organ and lap steel guitar frequently add a magic touch where an otherwise strong song could’ve settled. There’s Corvair’s Heather Larimer lending vocal assistance on “Empty Island.” And for Silkworm fans, “Halocline” and “S c ent” each feature Joel R.L. Phelps on saxophone. You could write out the whole list of credits for how many contributors are worth noting and for how much they add to make such a satisfying record.

As with Ambertron, though, the best songs on Roughrider happen when Mint Mile piles on the people in a gradually growing jam that stretches the band’s legs. Mirroring “The Great Combine” and “Amberline,” “S c ent” and “Brigadier” probably started as simple singer-songwriter sketches but grew into enormous, swooning spins. MIdyett appropriately struggles on “Brigadier” to hit an attempt at his highest registers as he sings “Can’t overcome the life we made” while the strings skitter and Panall’s percussion finally brings the band to a crashing finish, where Draper’s pulsing, spirit-cleansing organ takes you out. It’s a real thing of beauty.

The whole album and band — really, we should be more generous and call them a collective — is a thing of beauty. Once again, Mint Mile has delivered music with weathered emotional complexity that retains an open-ended sense of optimism that, maybe from now on, the ride won’t be so rough. How easy it is to fall for that kind of burdened but unbeaten perspective.