Logan Ledger

Artist Information

The second full-length from singer/songwriter Logan Ledger, Golden State is steeped in so many of the ineffable qualities embodied by California: wild-eyed idealism, uneasy unpredictability, the infinite promise of rebirth and renewal. In keeping with the refined ingenuity first revealed on his T Bone Burnett-produced self-titled debut, the Bay Area raised, Nashville-based musician
also leans into California’s legacy of restless reinvention, continually cross-pollinating his vast reservoir of influences to create entirely unexpected musical idioms (including, at one point, a glorious collision of British folk and rowdy surf rock). Anchored in his captivating baritone and poetic lyricism, Golden State ultimately matches Ledger’s rich sense of history with an unfettered originality, arriving at a body of work both elegantly composed and endlessly surprising.

Produced by Shooter Jennings (Tanya Tucker, Brandi Carlile, Kelsey Waldon), Golden State marks a stylistic departure from the timeless country noir of Ledger’s critically lauded debut (a 2020 LP featuring such luminaries as avant-garde guitarist Marc Ribot). This time around, Ledger worked with musicians like Cage The Elephant guitarist Nick Bockrath, pedal-steel player Russ Pahl (Sturgill Simpson, Tyler Childers), Jennings’s longtime bassist Ted Russell Kamp and drummer Jamie Douglass, and Jennings himself (on piano, Wurlitzer, organ, and celeste), dreaming up a lush and spirited sound partly inspired by the California country-rock scene of the late-’60s and early-’70s. Mainly recorded live at the famed Sunset Sound in Los Angeles, the result is a sublime setting for Ledger’s layered meditations on loss and despair and the search for transcendence.

Opening on a moment of symphonic grandeur, Golden State begins with the lavish string intro to its title track, the first of several songs exploring California as a metaphor for personal metamorphosis. “It’s about trying to find your way to contentment or self-actualization and never quite getting there, but understanding that the quest itself is still important,” says Ledger. Centered on a soulful vocal performance that telegraphs both weariness and hope, “Golden State” illuminates his rare gift for expressing complex existential questions with a poignant simplicity (e.g., “Out where they’re laughing in the sun/Way back in the land where I come from/But every mile feels longer than the last/Like slowly getting dragged back by the past”). Meanwhile, Ledger and his fellow musicians offset the track’s heavy-hearted mood with a bright and bristling energy, thanks in part to the propulsion of Douglass’s double-time drumming and the shimmering tones of Pahl’s pedal steel.

Next, on “There Goes My Mind,” Golden State slips into a loose and lively country-rock groove as Ledger looks inward to examine his own limitations (“Always slipping out the backdoor, running like a thief in the night/But in my defense/Nothing ever really makes much sense/Thoughts are just always taking flight”). A full-hearted reflection on love lost, “All The Wine In California” sets its sorrowful outpouring to a swinging backdrop built on hard-driving train-beat rhythms, robust harmonies, and a fantastically nimble guitar solo from Ledger, lending a certain radiance to the most melancholy lyrics (“All the wine in California couldn’t drown my memory/I might put away an ocean, but I never would be free”). “On one level it’s a song about a sadness so deep that even alcohol can’t make you forget,” says Ledger. “But on another level the wine could represent all the pleasures of life—all the things we do to distract ourselves that never manage to erase our pain.” From there, Golden State fully surrenders to the all-consuming heartbreak of shattered dreams on “Midnight in L.A.,” a gorgeously sleepy slow-burner adorned with hypnotic guitar riffs and Jennings’s warmly understated piano work. “It’s about watching a chapter in your life come to a close, whether it’s a relationship or the pre-pandemic world,” says Ledger. “As a California exile, it also has something to do with the end of the mythology of the Golden State, that idea of California as a land of plenty where everything is roses. There’s definitely a lot of sadness to that song, but hopefully with the end of an old dream there’s the birth of a new one.”

One of Golden State’s most mesmerizing moments, “Some Misty Morning” kicks off the album’s second side with a luminous duet between Ledger and singer/songwriter Erin Rae. In a callback to the opening track of his debut—a darkly charged lullaby called “Let The Mermaids Flirt With Me,” on which the song’s narrator daydreams of his own death—“Some Misty Morning” inhabits a mood of lovely desperation as the two vocalists yearn for long-awaited relief from their heartache (“Some misty morning/When the wind whistling by/Sounds like mermaids singing in the ocean/Sorrow will come to an end”). “I tend to write songs that can be interpreted either spiritually or secularly, so that song could be either about looking forward to the afterlife or about waiting for a reunion with someone you love,” says Ledger. In a thrilling turn, “Some Misty Morning” breaks from its folky splendor at the bridge, drifting into a divine frenzy fueled by Bockrath’s electrifying guitar work.

Later, on “I’m Not Here,” Ledger takes a cue from Roy Orbison and offers up a cinematic piece of mid-century pop beautifully suited to his innate talents as a crooner. “I’ve always been inspired by those Roy Orbison songs that feel like mini-symphonies,” Ledger points out. “They just continue to build and build instead of repeating any parts, and it was fun to start at the lowest part of my range and work my way up to those big notes at the end.” And on “Where Will I Go,” Golden State closes out with a wistful rumination on rootlessness, intensifying the track’s bittersweet tone with Ledger’s tender vocal delivery and a soul-stirring string arrangement from composer Kristin Wilkinson (Willie Nelson, Dolly Parton, Alison Krauss). “In a way that song sums up the whole theme of the record—that feeling of uncertainty and wondering how to move forward,” says Ledger. “There have been so many changes over the past few years; parts of me have died and I’m never going to get them back. I feel like I’m a new person now, mostly for the better, but there’s still that question of what to do now and what happens next.”

Once again revealing what he’s described as an “archaeological impulse with regards to music-making,” Golden State emerged as Ledger tapped into a goldmine of longtime inspirations: Western swing songwriter Cindy Walker, Gene Clark’s 1974 cult classic No Other, Bakersfield legends like Buck Owens, baroque-pop iconoclast Scott Walker, the most obscure and eccentric corners of early-20th-century folk music (as curated by bohemian polymath Harry Smith), to name just a few. Growing up near San Francisco, Ledger first discovered his expansive musicality by learning to play guitar at age 12 and soon began writing songs informed by country/blues artists like Doc Watson and Mississippi John Hurt. Within several years of graduating from college (where he hosted a bluegrass show on the campus radio station), he moved to Nashville and played in a series of cover bands while working in local bars. After a demo of “Let The Mermaids Flirt With Me” made its way to T Bone Burnett, the culture-shaping producer reached out to Ledger, striking up a collaboration that soon led to the making of his auspicious debut album.

With his latest output including a sweetly languid rendition of the Grateful Dead’s “Ripple” (a standalone single spontaneously recorded during his sessions with Jennings), Ledger continues to thrive on uncovering new possibilities within longstanding musical traditions. “Making this record really reinforced that I don’t ever want to do the same thing twice,” he says. “In the future I might make a crazy Western swing record or an ’80s country-pop record, but no matter what I do, I always want to combine different eras and styles and come up with these strange hybrids. I’m not much of a purist and I don’t have any interest in just repeating the past.” He laughs, “I guess we’ll see what the future has in store.”