Skeletons
It’s thanks to some combination of powerfully persuasive musicianship and sheer stubbornness that Brothers Osborne carved out a place for themselves in the country music landscape during the latter half of the 2010s. TJ Osborne’s guttural, low-slung lead vocals, languid phrasing, and bluesy bends are situated at the intersection of old-school country, R&B, and Southern rock, and never venture into country pop’s presently dominant mode of emulating hip-hop. John Osborne, the older sibling in the duo, serves as co-lead on guitar, putting muscular, incisive playing squarely in the spotlight at a time when beatmaking has much more of a presence in the format than shredding solos. On their first album, 2016’s *Pawn Shop*, they proved that they\'re in touch with commercially accessible songwriting sensibilities. By the follow-up, 2018’s *Port Saint Joe*, they and their bandmates—the rare Nashville outfit to do double duty on stage and in studio—were stretching out. On their latest, *Skeletons*, the Osbornes and the rest of their crew, including their longtime producer Jay Joyce, really stoke the dynamic tension between hooks, licks, and grooves and showcase what a deep pocket they have as a band. Partway through \"All Night,\" the sinewy propulsion gives way to the barbed, sneaky precision of John\'s guitar vamp. During \"All the Good Ones Are,\" funky guitar rhythms graze a meaty, countrified dance-rock backbeat. The title track features a sly, taunting performance from TJ, who reaches cavernous lows and musters a robust attack an octave higher, while the tricky accents of an Appalachian blues-rock guitar riff toy with the timekeeping. The band hurtles from \"Muskrat Greene,\" John’s blistering, chicken-picking instrumental jam, into the down-home show-stopper \"Dead Man’s Curve.\"
As a title, Skeletons suggests a bare-bones album, but that's hardly what Brothers Osborne deliver here.