Rodney Crowell Airline Highway
Before there was Alternative Country, before Outlaw Country, before Americana, there was Rodney Crowell.
The veteran songwriter released his debut album, the now-ironically titled Ain’t Living Long Like This, in 1978 — a decade before Steve Earle’s Copperhead Road, two decades before Lucinda Williams’s Car Wheels on a Gravel Road, and a good thirteen years before Tyler Childers was even born.
But Crowell is not coasting on past glories. His new album Airline Highway—his twentieth studio release, depending on how you count—proves he’s still vital, still compelling, and still discovering new creative territories half-way through his seventh decade.
Crowell’s musical DNA has always been something of a mashup: the literary sophistication of Nashville songcraft merged with the restless energy of rock and the soulful grit of country’s margins. His songs possess a remarkable narrative depth, populated by complex characters navigating love’s complications and life’s disappointments with equal measures of wisdom and vulnerability. Crowell has always been a boundary crosser, crafting songs that feel equally at home on country radio, college playlists, and late-night jukeboxes. His distinctive voice, weathered but supple, serves as the perfect vehicle for his storytelling, capable of conveying both world-weary resignation and infectious joy, sometimes within the same verse.
Airline Highway takes its name from the southernmost segment of U.S. 61, the Blues Highway, the storied and now somewhat seedy road connecting New Orleans and Baton Rouge. It began when Crowell met Tyler Bryant, a young guitarist and producer whose band the Shakedown toured with the Black Crowes and Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers. (One of Bryant’s prized possessions is a photograph of himself as a pre-teen meeting his hero, Rodney Crowell.) “He’s one of the most impressive young men I’ve met in a long time,” Crowell says.
This intergenerational connection sparked something electric. Crowell and Bryant assembled a virtuosic and versatile backing band of mostly Austin-based musicians, featuring guitarist Dave Grissom (Joe Ely, James McMurtry, Dixie Chicks), pianist Catherine Marx (Willie Nelson, Reba McEntire), drummer Conrad Choucroun (Bruce Robison, Kelly Willis), accordion legend Dirk Powell (Joan Baez, Rhiannon Giddens), and Eleanor Denig (Mavis Staples, Gillian Welch & Dave Rawlings) on strings. “This record is a document of me falling in love with these musicians,” Crowell explains.
In addition to the band, the guest list includes some of contemporary roots music’s most exciting voices: Ashley McBryde co-wrote and sings on “Taking Flight,” Lukas Nelson co-wrote and performs the opener “Rainy Days in California,” Blackberry Smoke guitarist Charlie Starr contributes vocals to “Heaven Can You Help,” while Rebecca and Megan Lovell from Larkin Poe add harmonies and slide guitar throughout.
The themes are classic Crowell—highways, romance, mortality—but the approach feels lighter and more celebratory than his recent work, no doubt influenced by these younger collaborators who clearly inspire him. Bryant is almost exactly half Crowell’s age, yet their creative chemistry is undeniable.
Produced by Bryant and recorded primarily at Trina Shoemaker’s remote Dockside Studio in Maurice, Louisiana, the album captures the spontaneous energy of musicians falling in love with each other’s playing. The humid Louisiana atmosphere unlocked old memories for Crowell, and those younger players ensured the music reflects all that joy, loss, regret, and wonder.
In a fairer world, the album’s opening track would be a major radio hit. “Rainy Days in California” finds Crowell explaining his restless relationship with the Golden State: “Rainy days in California come too far and few for me / These desert towns don’t feed my soul / I need to hear the thunder roll.” It’s a perfect encapsulation of his Southern sensibility, even as he declares he’s “headed off in search of rain / Back down south in the land of sugar cane.”
The album celebrates both geographical and emotional journeys. “Louisiana Sunshine Feeling Okay” captures the intoxicating joy of being present in the moment: “I ain’t got money but I’ve got a song / And I’m gonna sing it loud the whole day long.” It’s a reminder that Crowell, despite his career longevity, hasn’t lost his appreciation for simple pleasures.
But it’s the album’s concluding track, “Maybe Somewhere Down the Road,” that demonstrates Crowell’s hard-earned wisdom most powerfully. He describes it as “a sad story, but a true story. It’s about an almost-romance I had …. I found out much later that this woman was a suicide casualty, so I wrote that song for her.” The song’s gentle introspection—”Did I love her? Oh, I don’t know. It was such a long time ago”—could only come from someone with decades of perspective on love and loss.
This hard-earned wisdom runs throughout the album. And Crowell is explicit about how age and maturity have not answered all of his questions. In “Simple” he explores how “time ever on my side, as far as I can tell / The minutes and hours and nights I spent in my own private hell / Might’ve made me a better man, but I can’t say just how.” Yet he’s found peace with aging: “I don’t want to be young again, it goes by so fast / I live more in the moment now and less in the past.”
Perhaps most tellingly, Crowell’s attitude toward his craft has evolved. “My ambition isn’t to be a household name anymore,” he reflects. “My ambition is to be satisfied with the work that I do. I’m at a place where it really is all about having fun.” This shift from ego-driven ambition to pure creative joy infuses every track.
Airline Highway stands as proof that artistic vitality isn’t about age—it’s about remaining open to new experiences, new collaborators, and new ways of seeing old truths. After three-quarters of a century, Rodney Crowell is still finding fresh roads to travel.
Find more details here: https://rodneycrowell.com
Check out our previous coverage here: Key to the Highway: Rodney Crowell
A little over 50 yrs ago, on my way to my Grandfather’s south TX red dirt ranch for a family reunion, I bought a cassette tape for $3.99 at the last truck stop before arriving at the ranch. The pre-amble on the inside sleeve said something like; (IN A WORLD OF BEIGE COMPACT CARS, RODNEY CROWELL IS A POWDER BLUE CADILLAC CONVERTIBLE. HE TOILS AWAY IN HIS OWN GARDEN. NEVER MINDING ABOUT WHAT OTHERS ARE DOING. HE’S A BREATH OF FRESH AIR.) It was the best money I ever spent, & I’ve been in awe of Rodney Crowells writing & music ever since. So glad to hear he’s giving us another gift with the ability to buy another album now. YOU GO RODNEY!