His second solo jaunt out of the shadow of creative partner Gillian Welch finds Dave Rawlings in some unexpected moods. Laconic and mischievous we expect, but the slow narratives at the heart of Nashville Obsolete carry a bitter taste. Pilgrim comes with the kind of sneer Dylan served up on Like a Rolling Stone and The Trip is a world-weary, 11-minute meander (“What’s a bullet hole or two between friends?”). Rawlings’s reedy vocals sprawl but bite, Welch is on hand to supply harmonies and the pair brighten up for the throwaway Candy and Last Pharaoh. The playing is, predictably, classy, but mostly it’s an album of surprises; it’s Dave’s porch and he’ll play what he chooses.
