Texas born Vincent Neil Emerson has become a staple among folk and country music fans nationwide, celebrated for his honest tales of life on the road, heartbreak, and struggles of all sorts. His first LP, Fried Chicken & Evil Women, from 2019, established him as a refreshing voice in the modern country music landscape. The songs from that first album were charming and playful songs, but didn’t reveal the entirety of Emerson’s story.

On his brilliant new album, The Golden Crystal Kingdom, Emerson transcends the role of a honky-tonk country singer and becomes a chronicler of his history. The album is a bold continuation of the story he tells on Vincent Neil Emerson, with songs like the title track exploring the feelings he was left with after his days spent playing in Texas honky-tonks and dancehalls, and the track “The Time of The Rambler,” inspired by the early days of living in his car and busking on the streets.

It also pays tribute to some of the peers Emerson cut his teeth with in the music scene. He covers the Charley Crockett song, “Time of the Cottonwood Trees,” and is quick to pay tribute to his labelmate and dear friend Colter Wall. Vincent Neil Emerson carries on the torch of his singer-songwriter forebears while infusing the legacy with his unique and thrilling point of view.

Kassi Valazza has a viscous, light gold voice. It swirls around in your head like whiskey in a snifter; vaporous, and intoxicating. For most of Dear Dead Days pedal steel and electric guitar lope along at half time, the in pocket rhythm section booming from deep in the low end. Its frequencies penetrate your flesh. The songs reverberate off your bones. Her lyrics drip down the inside of your skull. On the opening track “Cayuse”:

“cause they’re hard runnin’ critters, and wild-eyed quitters / kicking up all they can find / that fool hardy man of mine”

Musicians with Southwest origins dependably bring a languorous relaxation — the slow pace a defense against the oppressive heat of the high desert — and a grim sense of gravitas, having walked among the bleached bones and arid landscapes. At times Valazza sings as if her lyrics are smoke she’s exhaling. On “A Fine Colour” she sings every note clearly, and with force, on a surrealist-jealousy jawn.