Spotlight Album Review: Joan Osborne "Nobody Owns You"

She’s been nominated for seven Grammy Awards, produced two Holmes Brothers albums, and done an album of Bob Dylan covers. Her 13th album, Nobody Owns You, may be her most personal. Joan has said, “These songs come from my feelings about people in my family, about people who I care about, and just what to do with this time that we have on the earth. They come from a raw emotional place. And I’m asking myself that question: What am I here for?“ It’s certainly rich in songwriting and production and well worth your attention.

Nobody Owns You was produced by Ben Rice (Valerie June, Norah Jones) in Joan’s home borough of Brooklyn. In addition to playing multiple instruments, Rice co-wrote five songs. The opening song, “I Should’ve Danced More,” sets the honest tone of the album. She should’ve danced, she should’ve have laughed, she should’ve loved, yet, “It’s not too late/But I can’t wait/These things can still be found.”  

The title track is a valediction to Joan’s 18-year-old daughter on the cusp of going to college: (“You’re as free as the wind in the street/And it’s time to stand up on your feet/Darling you’re complete/Nobody owns you”).

A couple of songs are dedicated to Joan’s aging mother. The acoustic gem, “The Smallest Trees,” one of many tracks blessed by Cindy Cashdollar’s steel guitar, recalls her childhood in Kentucky: (“Now my days grow short/I won’t get much more/And my eyes can see/What they missed before”). “Secret Wine” is a touching prayer that acknowledges her mother’s dementia: (“Whatever God may still exist/Please look down on your daughter/And fill her with your secret wine/That washes her like water”).

Apparently, “Child of God” is based one of her mother’s sayings. The clever, Dylanesque lyrics are supported Cashdollar’s steel guitar, the 12 string electric of Jack Petruzzelli (her regular guitarist) and backing vocals by Catherine Russell, Rachael Yamagata, and Jill Sobule. The message seems to be, “don’t be judgmental”:

The monk and the mall rat

The veteran of combat

Sand coming out of her ears

The snake oil salesman

The put-em-all-in-jails man

Who finally got a name for his fears

The overzealous tipper

The Alabama stripper

Saving up to live on Cape Cod

Every one of them is a child of God

A couple of songs are more barbed: “Time of the Gun,” a timely parable about the epidemic of mass shootings, and “Woman’s Work,” a feminist rocker (“Well a man may work from sun to sun/But a woman’s work is never done”), powered by Petruzzelli’s guitar and Dave Sherman’s Farfisa organ. On the other hand, “Tower of Joy” celebrates an ecstatic physical encounter.

Among the other acoustic gems are “So Many Airports,” about how the life of a touring musician blurs one’s memories, and “Lifeline,” a hopeful song about the power of music, made hymn-like by the backing vocals of Russell, Sobule, and Yamagata:  

Plant a seed into the ground

And feed it with the light you’ve found then

Watch what happens in the rain

It opens up it lives again

The album closes with a great soulful rocker, “Great American Cities,” a litany reminiscent of “Dancing in the Street” and a testament to health of urban America:

I’ve been to all the great American cities

(Detroit, Memphis, New York, Houston)

I keep my head about me wherever I walk

(Boston, Denver, Philadelphia)

I fell in love with all the American peoples

(Nashville, Portland, Santa Fe, Boise)

Oh how I love the musical ways that they talk

By rights it should be a national hit, but at the very least, it’s a reminder of what a powerful singer and songwriter Joan Osborne is. It’s great to witness her at the top of her game!

photo by Laura Crosta