ROBBY KLEIN
Like much of the modern world, today’s music can get confusing.
It’s a post-genre reality where artists challenge boundaries and fans are bombarded by choice. But for “hardheaded” Nashville rocker Bones Owens, things don’t have to be so complicated.
“This is very much a rock and roll album,” says the Missouri-born singer-songwriter, speaking of his new LP, Love Out of Lemons (out July 12). And these days, that’s about as refreshing as an ice-cold lemonade.
A Nashville resident since the pre-boomtown days of 2005, Owens long ago decided to ignore convention. Resisting the pull of Music City’s mainstream, he began paying underground dues instead, and now the fruit of that labor is here. Standing on the shoulders of giants, Love Out of Lemons squeezes Owens’ independent essence into a true rock and roll energy booster. And it may just be the most satisfying Nashville rock album of the summer.
“I’ve been in Nashville for a long time, and I’ve done a lot of different projects,” Owens admits. “I played with different people and had different iterations of what I do, but I think this record is different. It’s just a culmination of the things I’m influenced by.”
Those influences are easy enough to pick out. Over 11 heavily distorted tracks co-written by Owens (who also plays most of the instruments), Love Out of Lemons features a double shot of swagger and an easy-to-appreciate mix of classic rock, ‘90s grunge, and electro-pop, like a survey of rock’s growth from the 1960s onward. But those aforementioned “different people” may have influenced Owens even more.
Known as a trusted collaborator and side man to fiercely individualistic artists like Yelawolf, Mikky Ekko, and newly minted superstar Jelly Roll, Owens has seen from experience what sticking to your guns can do. So, for the last 10 years, he’s carried his hard-rock-or-bust spirit through thick and thin despite plenty of opportunity to change course.
“I haven’t felt like an outcast, but I wasn’t willing to participate with the full pop country thing that exists here,” Owens says. “Even a lot of my friends, for the last couple of decades, they used to be in rock bands and some of them are now big country writers. I’ve seen that evolution. I just never ended up really personally evolving.”
Now, his stubborn streak is paying off. The follow-up to his mellow 2023 EP Eighteen Wheeler, Owens says Love Out of Lemons captures the intensity and emotional release that has driven live rock and roll for decades, with no gimmicks or hidden agendas. Produced by Paul Moak at Smoakstack Studio, gritty lead guitars, pounding drums, and sonic references familiar to any longtime headbanger pepper the project. So do carefully crafted lyrics, inspired by Owens’ life as an indie troubadour. When put together, he feels it fits seamlessly with an ongoing rock revival.
“I grew up in the ’80s and ’90s, so that means my dad’s record collection was ’60s and ’70s rock stuff,” Owens explains. “A lot of the first influences I got into were things I was stealing from his record collection, like Steve Miller Band, Steely Dan, Creedence Clearwater Revival. And whether it’s Nashville or not, I think musical tastes, in general, have taken new interest in classic rock. Even ’90s alternative rock is coming back around, so I think rock and roll is actually in a pretty good place.”
Love Out of Lemons seems to celebrate that resurgence, with unabashed reverence for the icons of the form. Built around a buzzing back- alley guitar riff that speaks to bands like The Black Keys, the title track opens the set alongside a vocal dripping in attitude, as Owens sings of a relationship with “no lemonade to be made from the lemons.” Building up to a jangling anthem – complete with rock organ and propulsive handclaps – it’s the perfect start for an album filled with rock energy and nuance.
“I didn’t want to just do a balls-to-the-wall rock-and-roll record,” Owens says. “I wanted there to be some groove to it and some R&B kind of soul.”
Tracks like “Don’t Hold Out On Me” hit that target, matching its heavy-hitting electric blues with a swaying back beat. Meanwhile, tunes like “Goin’ Back Where I Come From” play up the chaos, pointing back to guitar heroes like ZZ Top, Joe Walsh, and especially Jimi Hendrix, as Owens tributes the need to escape Nashville’s “Crosstown Traffic.”
“I’ll take those references all day,” Owens says. “I have a lot of love for Jimi, and something about that track just reminded me of the ‘Crosstown Traffic’ energy – the pinnacle of that, ’60s, ’70s sound.” “I’ve been fortunate to travel all over the world, and there’s a lot of cities I love,” he goes on. “But when it comes down to it, the thing I’m really interested in getting back to is the simplicity of life.”
That will actually be tough this year since Owens aims to hit the road harder (and with more style) than ever. Embarking on his first overseas tour as a solo artist, 18 dates in September and October will find him crisscrossing the U.K. and Europe with Blackberry Smoke. And that’s in addition to a just-fulfilled lifelong dream. Riding city to city on his Harley Davidson, with just a bag of clothes and a guitar on his back, Owens toured the Midwest by motorcycle this spring – the very embodiment of rock and roll’s modern-day cowboy archetype. He actually scrapped the tour last year after hitting a deer during a shakedown ride, one day before the trip was meant to start. But for a guy called Bones, a little ankle fracture wasn’t keeping him out of the saddle forever.
“It’s a combination of wanting to get that long haul motorcycle trip in and also do a tour that sort of has that gypsy feel,” Owens explains. “No contingency plan, no trailer, nothing.”
Other new tracks like the hammer-down “Get It On” capture that romantic open-road ideal, walking a pulse-pounding, high-voltage wire between AC/DC and bands like Jet. Elsewhere, tunes like “Born Again” wallow in the distorted sludge made famous by Alice in Chains, Pearl Jam, and more. Finally, Owens finishes things off with a dose of Laurel Canyon sweetness on “You (Some More),” fusing airy folk-rock guitars and sunny vocal reverb like “The Byrds mixed with Fleet Foxes or My Morning Jacket,” ending this summertime rock revue on a mellow sonic sunset.
In a world where nothing is as it seems, it’s nice to know albums like this exist; and that no matter what’s happening with Nashville’s music industrial complex, artists like Bones Owens can escape the gravitational pull.
“I come into town to get groceries, and that’s about it,” Owens says with a laugh. “Maybe I’m just old now or something, but I just keep doing what I do, and I think even if I lived in Alaska, this is the music I’d be doing. I think the bottom line is it’s me. It’s someone choosing to play by their own rule book and doing it their own way. I’ve remained independent this whole time, and maybe I’m too hardheaded, but I just do things the way I think they should be done.”