ALAN JACKSON: Life’s Work on the Neon Rainbow

Yet what will probably strike deepest and last longest with many listeners are two of the album’s most subdued songs. Jackson tends to downplay direct connections between his life and his art; a public figure, he’s largely a private man, though he admits that maybe “Right Where I Want You” has personal origins. But it’s easy to think he’s reached deep into “I Wish I Could Back Up,” which goes beyond a simple regretful look back to expose unexpected layers in its chorus:

Time takes you places you never knew you’d be goin’
It softens the edges of memories you’re towin’
It changes the reasons you wanted to hold her
I wish I could back up and start all over

With “Sissy’s Song,” on the other hand, Jackson is willing to talk about the connection candidly. “That’s a song about a girl that worked in our house and was part of our family,” he says. After her accidental death last spring, the song “just came out in about 15 minutes. It helped me, and I think it helped make her family feel special. I did a guitar and vocal on it, and we played it at her funeral. That’s what we put on the album.  It wasn’t intended to be on there, but Keith argued pretty strongly for it.”

Over three minutes, the song exposes a man wrestling with the unfathomable, concluding that the woman he knew now “walks with Jesus,” yet unwilling to ignore the uncertainty and confusion of family and friends left behind:

Anger shot straight at God, then asking for his love
Empty with disbelief, just hoping that maybe
She flew up to heaven on the wings of angels…

Listening to Jackson’s unadorned singing and spare accompaniment, it’s clear that while he’s a man of faith, he’s also wary of pat answers. To this end, “Sissy’s Song” acts as a counterpart to one of his greatest previous songs, the 9/11 meditation “Where Were You (When the World Stopped Turning).” One contemplates a public tragedy, the other a private one, but both reflect the same mix of faith and doubt, hope and despair.

Alan Jackson doesn’t break new ground with Good Time, but to judge the album by that criterion is simply to miss the point, as is evaluating the worth of its songs by measuring their craft or overtly confessional aspects. What counts is whether the songs-and the performances that give them life-touch lives. Jackson’s do, and he knows it. In an interview with the Tennessean‘s Beverly Keel earlier this year, he observed that, “I lose touch with all the things that my fans are doing, everyday life things that they are just going through to get by…but at the same time, I think [I’ve] had enough life experience…to continue to write songs that are simple and they can connect with.” Look at the enthusiasm with which Good Time has been greeted by those fans, and it’s unmistakable: the connection remains as strong as ever.