The Lone Bellow: A Rabbit Room Playlist—Matt Conner

By Matt Conner

The harmonies brought me to The Lone Bellow. They’re not what’s kept me here.

If you’ve ever heard the three beautiful voices at work making such brilliant harmonies atop the roots rock offered by The Lone Bellow—the trio comprised of Zach Williams, Kanene Donehey Pipkin, and Brian Elmquist—then you’ve likely felt the same easy appreciation for the music. It’s anthemic and infectious, and it’s been that way since first hearing “Green Eyes and a Heart of Gold” kicking off their self-titled debut in 2013.

What’s kept me tethered close to their catalog for more than a decade, however, has less to do with the captivating music and more to do with the lyrical weight it carries. Their songs have vivid, specific addresses: a hospital bedside, a childhood backyard catching crawdads at dusk, a cold booth in a Park Slope diner. That specificity allows for real transmission (and transportation) to take place.

The Lone Bellow’s catalog has always felt Rabbit Room-adjacent to me. They’re hopeful songs that don’t flinch away from what that hope costs. My guess is if you’re willing to venture in, you might be making your own playlist soon.

There’s so much I want to say about this band, so many songs to highlight in the hopes of spreading the good word. But any tour of the band’s catalog has to begin with the first track from their first album (which, by the way, was produced by Charlie Peacock). Getting into The Lone Bellow means first getting into the captivating harmonies that still anchor every album.

“I need something to hold onto / dead leaves, bare feet, our eyes were true / we can’t unsee that point of view.” This track returns to a central question again and again: “Should I let go of the wonder?” Pipkin says, “I hope this record is a journey back into wonder, not through any falsified sense of ‘Everything’s going to be fine,’ but through the beauty and the pain of what it is to be human.” Amazing.

Even when trying to illustrate the substance of a band, it’s important to never lose sight of the fact that we’re building a playlist here. That makes the inclusion of a love song like “Honey” absolutely necessary, with its sweet sentiment and the most demanding sing-along in the band’s catalog. It’s a fan fave for good reason.

This is quite the zag away from “Honey,” but The Lone Bellow’s ability to drop the listener into an unfolding scene is a real gift, even in sadder times. The song documents the painful moment of discovering that things have already come undone, but instead of trying to describe the feelings involved, a scene is set: “And the coffee it was cold / and you made the waitress laugh / with one of your long jokes / yeah, she probably just felt bad / and I noticed that your shirt and the curtains were a match / and you stood there for a second / and I wanted it to last.”

Williams says this song is about “letting your loved ones help you lay down the things that are weighing you down. Something I have to say to myself a good bit.” It’s not hard to find a song about being there for each other, but few would describe hearing the truth in this way: “Let it break you / Let it help you lay down what you held onto” while promising a presence in the pain.

A beautiful and poignant reminder to remain open to the world (and its people) that hits home with these lyrics: “It’s a good time for trying to walk through the darkness / We should get started / I’m still searching for wherever your heart is.” Elmquist once explained the song this way: “I love those moments even in friendships when someone surprises you or reveals something you never knew about them before. I think it’s so vital to any relationship to keep on chasing the mystery and maintain that curiosity instead of just making your mind up about who or what the other person is.”

We’ve already established The Lone Bellow as that trusted musical friend to tell you what you really need to hear. “Between the Lines” is another such (upbeat) nudge that leans more country than most: “What I’m here to tell you / You don’t need the hurt / To make something you love / To tell you what you’re worth / And you don’t need regret / To guide you through the night / You and I were made to stand up straight / And read between the lines.” A needed encouragement for the more melancholic among us.

Written as a tribute to his courageous mother-in-law and the grit required to move forward as a poor, single mother in the early ’80s, “Fake Roses” builds to one of the most emotional payoffs in the band’s catalog. “Your heart is achin’, I hear what it’s sayin’, and you don’t have to tell me anything.”

In the wake of the Covenant School shooting in Nashville, The Lone Bellow released a new single “Victory Garden,” written as a response and resource, with proceeds benefitting the non-profit work of Voices for a Safer Tennessee. Finding our footing in the face of overwhelming grief feels like an impossible task, but lyrics like these illustrate the possibilities: “So we sow the seeds in our victory garden / Hands in the earth so the heart doesn’t harden / The cries of our children won’t soon be forgotten / Each one a flower in our victory garden.”

Tom Waits once told Terry Gross, “I guess I like beautiful melodies telling me terrible things.” A barnburner in a live setting, “Time’s Always Leaving” is a great example of a clap-along anthem while confronting us with the truth about the fleeting nature of time: “Time’s always leaving sneaking peeks at her watch / Always whispering sweet little lies ‘bout her thoughts / Always saying everything’s gonna be alright / But time and time again I give up the fight.”

Photo by Jefferson Santos on Unsplash