Popular country music has largely spiraled into formulaic safety. The grit and sincerity of old is lost on poppy music and singers who rest on cheesy and stereotypical subject matter, like trucks and beautiful women in cowboy hats and white T-shirts.

But amid the shallow din, a refreshing voice came to the alternative country limelight in 2011. That’s when Lydia Loveless made her label debut with “Indestructible Machine,” a powerful example of punk-country fusion best exemplified by Hank Williams III or old rebels like Johnny Cash. The album sounds gritty, heavy and passionate, with Loveless’ powerful voice soaring above the chaos.

Loveless released her third full-length album — under Bloodshot Records — on Feb. 18. “Somewhere Else” features a much more polished, traditional country sound but still has the same powerfully honest lyrics Loveless is so great at delivering.

Although “Somewhere Else” is the best country album of the year, it lacks what made Loveless so dynamic and interesting as an artist. The punk sound that infiltrated her country roots on “Indestructible Machine” is almost completely absent, leaving listeners with a record that sounds like a really good, slightly gritty ‘90s country nostalgia piece.

This isn’t all bad; country music was actually really good in the ‘90s. It was before all the women in the genre looked more like polished pop stars than girls who grew up on farms. But Loveless can do better than that. She’s not made to be a copycat, and her potential wasn’t fully reached here.

The album opens with “Really Wanna See You,” a catchy tune about wanting another chance with someone you messed up with the first time.

Even though the production is much cleaner than her last album, there’s still something organic, heartfelt and utterly uncalculated about how Loveless delivers her music. Country artists love to sing about heartbreak, but Loveless does it in a way that twists your gut. She holds nothing back.

She doesn’t fear the conventions of popular country music — there are even a few F-bombs on the album, if you can believe that. The sincerity is such a breath of fresh air, but the grit is sorely missed.

“Wine Lips” follows, and it sounds like something you would have heard on country radio in 1995. I can hear plenty of artists who were big at the time — the Dixie Chicks, Shania Twain, Faith Hill — performing this song, and it wouldn’t sound strange at all.

But “Wine Lips,” and a lot of songs on “Somewhere Else,” don’t really have a place on the radio today. They’re not modern enough to fit in with the mainstream, but they’re also not classic enough to work on the radio. Maybe ‘90s country will make a comeback, but until then, Loveless’ album seems slightly irrelevant.

The lyrics, sung over a crunchy guitar playing minor chords, are the best part of an all-around good song. It’s about not wanting to feel alone. More specifically, it’s about oral sex, a topic that country radio would never dare to touch.

It might sound vulgar, but in her lyrical brilliance, Loveless finds a way to make the song more about seeking comfort in another person than the actual act of sex. We’ve all been there — we’ve felt alone, unvalued and less beautiful than we’d like. Loveless writes about this with delicacy and skill, and succeeds where so many others would undoubtedly fail.

One of the more appealing aspects of “Indestructible Machine” was Loveless’ candid discussion of her anxiety and depression. Those topics still appear on “Somewhere Else,” and the singer’s dysfunctional tendencies make for really good lyrics.

Though there’s not one bad song on “Somewhere Else,” there aren’t enough great ones. Loveless can do better; she’s proven that with “Indestructible Machine.”

There’s no harm in an artist trying to avoid retreading the same territory. Maybe Loveless doesn’t want to put out punk album after punk album. She just needs to find something more interesting to replace it with because she’s better than a nostalgia act.

Published on February 24, 2014 at 10:29 pm

Contact Jessica: jmcabe@syr.edu | @Jessica_Cabe