As dedicated a drifter as the day is long, Nashville based songwriter Pat Reedy holds the reputation of a touring musician with more miles, more stories and more freewheeling spirit than most. Make no mistake though, the man who titled his 2017 solo debut Highway Bound hasn’t switched gears in the slightest on his latest release Make It Back Home. Produced by John James Tourville of The Deslondes, this album is a document of driving honky tonk and highway poetry. A collection of memories, reflections, and unconventional life experiences that consume the mind when the idea of your own bed is defined more by dates on a calendar than a permanent place.

 

Falling in behind the rolling guitar riff on the album’s title track opener, Reedy’s band are classic country accompaniment to verses and promises of a grand reunion that is long overdue. Hope outlasts hardship though, even when it seems like an ocean away. “I wrote this while I was kind of just homeless in Ireland for ten days, in between two tours I think,” says Reedy. “I was sitting on the rocks by the lighthouse in Galway, looking westward at the Atlantic Ocean.”

 

Lyrically, “Bright Lights” is perhaps a lesson learned firsthand from the reality of pursuing a beguiling path. The glamour of shiny pedal steel can be irresistible alongside a “calling high and lonesome to the rhythm of the rails” in one chorus, but reiterated as a “calling high and lonesome shining straight from here to hell” in another - followed by a crunchy guitar solo. “The allure of a life of music leads people to sometimes live insane lives,” says Reedy.

 

The sparse start of “Long Drives and Lonesome Mornings” softly stirs to a gentle trot evocative of a highway hypnosis. “I wrote this while driving across the country playing solo shows,” says Reedy. “That was my life for a while.” Imagery of somewhere south of Amarillo at dawn and “staring down the same interstate” turns focus to doubts and dreams of a distant love affair as the band begins to pick up.

 

A plaintive Reedy wrestles with regret on “Do It Again” - probing the musical question of would or wouldn’t in the same sonic vein as a dark and despondent Hank Williams. “Sometimes it’s difficult to look back and know if you've done the right things with your life,” says Reedy. “Other times it is easy to say that you would do the same again. This song was written with people in mind who have lived to the fullest and experienced grief.”

 

Highlighted by hot picking, “Hold On To You” deals with the dual impossibilities of remaining unscathed by the far different reality of the road and sustaining a stable relationship at the same time. However, hopelessness is always sweeter with a honky tonk sound.

 

“Should You Ever” is a swaying country-soul invitation inspired by the late singer-songwriter Luke Bell. “It was actually written and recorded when he was still alive but not really talking to any of us here in Nashville,” explains Reedy. “He had had a mental health crisis and just went off down the road of self-medicating with drugs and alcohol, shutting a lot of us out in the meantime. I guess it is too late for Luke now, but hopefully it isn't for someone else.”

 

Kicking off the second half of the record, “Runnin’ Outta Reasons” is simply a sick and tired Reedy letting off steam over a skipping beat. “It’s just a song about being mistreated and getting fed up with it,” states Reedy. 

 

Straight to the juke joint on a slapping rhythm, a charged up Reedy is ready to cut loose on “Down Down Downtown.” Fiddle, pedal steel, and stellar guitar licks soundtrack an unstoppable spree that is indifferent to place, time or companionship.

 

“Nothin’ But The Wind” is an amalgamation of the life of Reedy’s late friend and the perils of being a “train kid.” Although both subjects are bonded by tragedy and a shared common ground outside the system of regular society, the tune is a surprisingly upbeat two-stepping tribute.

 

A towering achievement of twang, “Tallest Man In Tennessee” is a true working man’s anthem built from an evening up above Nashville. “I was working with my friend Brian Walsh on a giant monstrosity of a hotel in downtown Nashville,” explains Reedy. “The big bosses, the white collar construction crowd in the office trailer were gone and we rode the buck hoist up to the roof and drank Guinness. It was night and we were looking down at the Nashville skyline, it being one of the tallest buildings in Tennessee. Brian said ‘Hey, I'm the tallest man in Tennessee right now.’ I said ‘Thats ridiculous, you're taller than me, on a tall building,’ but he was not to be moved.” The concern of being caught or leaving any evidence behind was quickly dismissed by Walsh. “He went on a tirade about how he gave his time, his health, his back, his knees and everything else to this industry, and that screw them, they could have it,” says Reedy “It got me thinking. I’ve worked a lot of construction and it is rough. It’s dangerous, filthy. A lot of guys I worked with were veterans, a lot had been in and out of prison. Construction destroys your body. Many workers get hurt and end up battling pill addiction trying to treat chronic pain. Those are the people that built the city, gave every city its skyline. Some of them continue to die doing it.”

 

Led by a tasty guitar line with a touch of tremolo that reappears between each verse and chorus, “All The Way Down” marries monotony to a feeling of finality via the spirit of a Cajun stomp. Sawing fiddle plays as Reedy sings of the “same ol’ town” and the burden of words unspoken. “This song is largely about going home to see my aunt Sue who was dying and knowing that that would be the last time,” says Reedy. “I went out to the bar afterward and caught up with my cousins but we didn't talk about it directly. I suppose it was difficult to know what to say. Then I was out on the road again.”

 

Closing track “Traveler On The Plains” is a trail-weary ballad from the perspective of a past generation.  “This song is about all the guides, scouts, pioneers, rogues and vagrants that we didn't learn about in history class,” says Reedy. “Whenever I'm crossing the plains I can't help but wonder at how many people did it before me on horseback, cart, or on foot, with no roads or landmarks - just the hope of something better over the horizon. There are countless cases of people who completely lost their minds out there in that vast country from the brutal conditions and isolation.”

 

Make It Back Home was recorded at Schematic Studios in Goodlettsville, TN by Justin Francis (Joshua Hedley, Rodney Crowell, Wanda Jackson) and mastered by Randy Leroy at Tonal Park Mastering (Robbie Fulks, Bella White, Kelsey Waldon).