Anais Mitchell - 'Young Man in America'

"It's a lonely, lonely world for a yellow-headed girl and a young man," sings Anais Mitchell in the middle of the title track, the second song on her latest effort, Young Man in America. It's a statement as simple as it is true, and it sets the theme for the rest of the album. Indeed, much like the entire album, this title track is a lush and sonically surprising tune which tells a story so believable and universal, it's darn near heartbreaking.

Defying every stereotype of contemporary folk music, Anais Mitchell's compositions manage - at the same time - to do everything folk music is there to do. Her songs are stories; and their stories are universal, stirring, arresting, often so honest it's shocking. Her command of traditional mythology and rural imagery is so astute you almost don't realize you're listening to a story which has been told and retold throughout history. Somehow, through tales and characters as old as the bible and Greek mythology, you believe it's fresh and surprising and, perhaps more stunningly, that it's personal. In other words, she has a grip on the history of storytelling which defies her 30 years, bridging the seemingly wide gulf between the entirety of human history and whatever's happening around now.

Granted, Mitchell herself has been known to note that her music is less topical and political than it is simply a presentation of the human experience. But, the way her stories unfold - tackling the issues facing farmers and poor people across America, the male-female dynamic, etc. - it's nearly impossible to not consider these as topical statements about some kind of social condition.

For example, that opening track again. "Young Man in America" (purchase/download) - the song - begins with a portrayal of birth which is honest, yes, but also more information than you'd share in mixed company. The portrayal of birth as an event where "My mother gave a mighty shot / opened her legs and let me out... I come out like a cannon ball..." is likely to give sensitive listeners pause. And yet, the story itself is so universal, it's hard to argue with the imagery.

While there are a couple of moments where the sequencing is less than perfectly smooth, it's hard to fault Mitchell too much for such a stumble. The songs themselves are entirely solid, well-imagined and imaginative. Her arrangements are impressively simple, yet they come across here as wickedly thick. Listen closely, though, and it's easy to pick out each voice and instrument - a couple guitars, a violin, maybe a banjo or some slight and distant cymbals. It's spare and accessible, but not lacking anything.

In addition to the title track, an early highlight is "Dyin' Day" (purchase/download) - a testament to the day-to-day reality of a floundering economy, paired with a certain American pride and work ethic ("every day a dying day").

Less topical is the subtly clever "Tailor" (purchase/download) - a love song of sorts which toys with various cliched images, successfully turning them into the rather sincere musings of a woman wronged. Less than a blushing tale of puppy love, this one is a much more ruminative and nearly self-deprecating (albeit realistic), complete picture of how it feels to be at first in the throes of newfound love and then at its inconsiderate mercy.

But, if there's a song which runs away with the whole album, it's "Shepherd" (purchase/download). There's a definite biblical tone to the imagery (the shepherd, the hay, the barn). Yet, it becomes clear very quickly this isn't a bible verse; this is a very modern American story about rural people. Again with that pride and work ethic theme, the heartbreak and loss. If not for the happy love songs, this album - much like life in America - would almost be too much to bear. Instead, it turns out to be an intensely emotional, beautiful window on humanity's many realities.