Minnesota, on the other hand, falters when Jennings expresses himself in allegories.
Jennings opens the album with the plea “Come home, bitter heart/Let go and love,” saturating the weighty pauses between austere piano chords with “fear and hate and doubt.” On “No Relief”, another pained, piano-driven song, he stretches his voice to wail about “the love that’s tearing apart.” It’s reminiscent of the ragged scream in Blood of Man’s “The Field”, Jenning’s soliloquy as a father whose son was killed in battle. But Jennings has nine critically acclaimed albums under his belt for a reason: Even though Minnesota focuses on love and family, Jennings continues to scrutinize heartache and longing with his appealing, astute songwriting. So when singer-songwriter Mason Jennings announced an upcoming album about “home and heart,” I worried especially since his last album, 2009’s Blood of Man, exemplified great songwriting as a result of anger and isolation. It lacks the creative spark that comes from being lonely, drug-addicted, and depressed. Usually when an artist makes an album celebrating how famous, successful, and happy they’ve become (ahem, Mike Skinner), it’s just not very good.
