Women in Country Wednesday: "Waxahachie"
A stripped-back and acoustic homecoming from Miranda Lambert and her longtime songwriting partners.
I return to The Marfa Tapes, a live album by Miranda Lambert, Jack Ingram, and Jon Randall at least once a year, usually in the depths of homesickness and spring.
There’s always an inverted bell curve to springtime (see figure above). All winter, I look forward to the eternal rebirth that comes with spring: I can finally put the sweaters, crochet hooks, and applications away to bask in the sun: iced coffee in one hand, grad school in the other. Life is good, and I get excited about change—the potential for new friends, a new career, and the personal growth that comes with both.
That was so last week.
Like the overcast skies and endless April showers, life is looking a little nebulous these days, and I’ve slid right into the depths of spring. I want to dig my heels into the ground and resist the earth that’s changing beneath me. I’m feeling anxious about moving homes (again), making friends (again), and figuring out life (again).
Looking out from the bottom of the bell curve, I crave a return to form, and that’s exactly what The Marfa Tapes is.
Both lyrically and sonically, The Marfa Tapes feels like a beautiful homecoming for Miranda Lambert. In the country veteran’s most popular numbers—"Gunpowder and Lead,” “Mama’s Broken Heart,” “Somethin’ Bad”—her delicate voice sometimes gets lost against the raucous electric guitars and drums.
In a clear departure from her previous work, Lambert and her partners recorded their The Marfa Tapes outdoors in Marfa, Texas with just a few microphones and acoustic guitars. In this stripped-back setting, Lambert’s gorgeous, Texan voice and raw spirit truly shine.
My favorite track from the album is “Waxahachie,” which tracks Lambert’s emotional turbulence from town to town. In the opening line, Lambert confesses, “Nobody ever left New Orleans as mad as I was” and wonders how long it would take her to outrun her problems. By the end of the song, the acoustic guitars fade so that it’s almost acapella. In the negative space, you can the yearning, Miranda’s desperation to just go home: “Waxahachie, it’s coming on 4 am / I need to be in your arms again / Looking for my long lost friend, / Waxahachie.” Miranda, too, is singing from the bottom of the inverted bell curve.
The anxieties of spring will gradually give way to a sunny and solid summer. But for now, if you are also weathering the depths of spring and the uncertainties of change, “Waxahachie” feels like a warm hug and an important reminder—we can always go home.
Listen to the acoustic version of “Waxahachie” here. She also has a polished, summery version on her latest album, Palamino for your next road-trip playlist.
I also highly encourage you to watch Ingram, Lambert, and Randall’s Tiny Desk concert—their harmonies and camaraderie imbue each song with such warmth and soul.