Riley Downing’s Landfill Poetry is the kind of record that makes a strong case for paying attention to ordinary lives. The second solo album from the Missouri-born singer-songwriter and longtime member of The Deslondes, it draws heavily from the working-class experiences that shaped him before music became his full-time occupation. Released on John Prine’s Oh Boy Records, the album’s dozen songs move comfortably between country, folk, blues and bluegrass, but the common thread is Downing’s extraordinary baritone and his ability to turn everyday observations into finely drawn character studies. Much of the material was written and demoed at his grandparents’ former home while The Deslondes were taking a break from touring, giving the album the feeling of an artist deliberately looking backward before moving forward.
The title track is a perfect introduction. Built around a sturdy groove of drums, shaker and bass, “Landfill Poetry” looks back at Downing’s years working on a garbage truck, finding humor and dignity in a job that most people would rather not think about. That working life continues to inform the album without becoming its sole subject. “Country Fool” disguises sharp observations beneath an easygoing country delivery, while “Polecat Holler” turns toward honky-tonk swing. “Chance” has an inviting roots arrangement featuring mandolin, fiddle and harmonica, and “Night Shift” slows everything down for a portrait of people whose working lives take place while everyone else is asleep. Downing has a knack for making these characters feel complete without overexplaining them.
The emotional center of the album is “Helen & Gene,” a tender remembrance of Downing’s grandparents. Its gentle, waltz-like rhythm and distant steel guitar give the song a sense of memory rather than simple nostalgia, as Downing reconstructs the relationship through small, intimate details. “Porch Song” finds beauty in the opposite impulse: doing very little at all. Its relaxed subject matter is matched by some of the album’s richest playing, with guitar, mandolin and fiddle creating an easygoing backdrop. Even “Hurt to Fall,” more subdued and inward-looking than much of the record, benefits from Downing’s willingness to let his voice carry the weight of the song rather than reaching for a dramatic arrangement.
There is a clear kinship between Landfill Poetry and the storytelling tradition associated with John Prine, making its home on Oh Boy Records particularly fitting, but Downing is no imitator. His deep, weathered voice, Missouri upbringing and years immersed in New Orleans roots music give these songs their own character. The production and arrangements by Andrija Tokic, Grant D’Aubin and John James Tourville preserve a loose, lived-in quality, allowing the musicians to sound like a band making music together rather than a collection of perfectly polished studio parts. That looseness suits songs about front porches, night shifts, old relationships and the peculiarities of being a “country fool.”
Landfill Poetry succeeds because Downing doesn’t need to make ordinary life seem extraordinary. He simply notices it closely enough to reveal what is already there. A garbage route becomes a meditation on work, a quiet afternoon becomes a celebration of doing nothing, and memories of grandparents become a way of measuring how much the world has changed. There is humor throughout, but also affection and a genuine respect for the people who populate these songs. After years of contributing his voice and songwriting to The Deslondes, Riley Downing has made a solo album that feels deeply personal without ever becoming self-important—and that may be the most fitting way to describe its considerable charm. – Jason Felton