Silver Knife Records

You can thank Jason Isbell.

The first time I heard “Codeine” off Isbell and the 400 Unit’s new Here We Rest album, I immediately went to the liner notes to see who was singing along with Isbell – and who was playing the fiddle (which ranged from gingham-apron-and-apple-pie sweetness to a weird skwonk that punctuated the “If there’s two things that I hate” verse).

The answer to both was Amanda Shires, a Texas-born-but-moved-to-Nashville singer/songwriter/multi-but-especially-killer-on-the-fiddle-instrumentalist who played with the Texas Playboys when she was 15 and has already seen her share of life on the road, playing to audiences on both sides of the Atlantic.

Discovering that Shires had a new album coming out – Carrying Lightning – was a bonus. The first time I actually put an ear to it, I felt like there was almost too much of Shires to take in – in the nicest of ways.

Start with her songwriting: the gal is blessed with the ability to nail the deepest of emotions with simple yet brilliant words.

The ache of missing someone: “Oh love be a bird/I could use some flying now/I can’t move to take a step/Or much less catch my breath/You’ve caught me now.” (From “Love Be A Bird”, featuring Chris Scruggs’ pedal steel doing a lovely slow dance with Shires’ vocal.)

The wonder of real love: “I don’t know where you found that key/I thought it was lost on some surface street/This heart’s been waiting/Oh waiting to start just for you.” (From “Kudzu”; if the lyrics don’t get you, Steph Dickinson’s upright bass will.)

Loss: “I was dreaming I was tied to a train track/Twisting in the sun/Burning up hoping the trains hadn’t quit rolling/I was ready for it to be done/But when you need a train it never comes.” (“When You Need A Train It Never Comes”, whose pain is matched only by its determination to end it.)

Pure Goddamn lust: “Time’s just a clock/A shade down the hall/And sometimes I just hate the day/I’d like to get a gun/That can shoot down the sun/Let’s have a night that won’t go away … Come over and shake the walls of this place” (From “Shake The Walls”, whose hipster-tango rhythm recalls something off Tom Waits’ Raindogs album.)

Then there’s Shires’ fiddle playing. She can do anything from pulling off a cool David Lindley lay-the-bow-to-the-highway tear (“Ghost Bird”) to syrupy sweetness (“Sloe Gin”) to raunchy horniness (back to the lust of “Shake The Walls” and its sultry gypsy fiddle break).

Add to that a voice that swings with ease from a smooth Rickie Lee Jones-like purr to a brace-off-and-let-it-fly Dolly Parton-ish trill. There’s no question that any emotions conjured up by Shires’ words can be done justice by her vocals.

This gal is real enough to hit home with anyone who has a heart; quirky enough to avoid being a cliché (check out “She Let Go Of Her Kite” and tell me if that isn’t the world’s first almost-acoustic girl group Wall of Sound arrangement); talented enough to carry the emotion from pen and paper to finished track (she co-produced the album); and just plain fun to listen to.

This Amanda Shires bears watching, world.