Julie

Rhiannon Giddens's voice on this track carries a weight that comes from somewhere much older than the recording — it draws from the African-American folk singing tradition, from shape-note hymnody, from the field holler, and she brings all of that history into a performance that feels entirely present. The arrangement is spare, the banjo at its center sounding ancient and unadorned, and the restraint of the production forces the voice to do everything. The song inhabits the interior world of a woman navigating a life not entirely her own, capturing the small dignities and private negotiations of a person whose choices are circumscribed by forces beyond her control. The emotion never tips into performance — Giddens delivers each phrase as if it is simply true, which is far more devastating than any amount of vocal theatrics could be. Culturally the song sits at a crossroads Giddens has made her life's work: recovering and honoring the African-American roots of American roots music. It's a song you'd listen to alone, in quiet, the kind of music that requires your full attention and rewards it by expanding your sense of what a voice can carry.