She’s Canadian and spent her formative years overseas, the daughter of a diplomat. But who cares? Country is a state of mind, and to get to that state you don’t have to drive a battered Ford pickup down any gravel roads way off the interstate, where the roadhouses (and I mean all of them) have neon signs with one letter on the fritz.
All you need is a guitar, a couple of albums by Loretta Lynn, and an attitude. And Edwards has attitude in spades.
Failer, Edwards’ 2003 debut, combines wondrous melodies with nakedly honest lyrics about love and the 3,000 ways it has of making your life a misery. Edwards has a sharp tongue, and can be sarcastic or cruelly ironic or plain dead funny when called for. Throw in lots of great musicians making an irresistible noise, and what you have is a no-lose proposition.
The Vinyl District
Graded on a Curve: Kathleen Edwards, Failer