Ron Pope creates a colorful ode to places of his past and people in his present on ‘American Man, American Music’

Recommended Tracks: “Nobody’s Gonna Make It Out Alive,” “I Pray I’ll Be Seeing You Soon,” “The Life In Your Years”
Artists You Might Like: John Mayer, James Bay, Tyler Childers

How would you define your home? Is it the place where you feel the most comfortable? Is it a place where you are surrounded by friends and family? Is it the place where you live? In life, your home does not necessarily have to be one specific location tied to an address. It can be somewhere that makes you feel safe, whether that be in the arms of a loving partner or in the city where you grew up. When Ron Pope was growing up, he did not necessarily choose his home – rather, a home chose him. Ron found solace on the open road, spending his time forming an identity through the places he visited and the people he met. Eventually, he discovered that his home was a place that he can create on his own, and he honors this concept on American Man, American Music.

We hear quaint Americana stories throughout the album, from Ron singing “Sweet Home Alabama” in a local bar to speeding around town in a Mustang. On the opening track, “Nobody’s Gonna Make It Out Alive,” Ron takes us to Georgia, where he contemplates his next move. Specifically, he is “27 miles outside of Augusta at a bar that doesn’t have a name,” and after a long night of playing “for the one paying customer,” he is ready to settle in for the night. Will he go home? Will he stay with an ex? Whatever the case, we know that he takes comfort in the possibilities. The world is full of options, especially when you are young. As we hear on “The Queen Of Fort Payne, Alabama,” which is an instant summer anthem, it can be hard to let go of your youth. Throughout the track, Ron relives those days when he was reckless and young. He remembers, “It was summer / She was leavin’ / No, we were not meant to last,” and sings of “Good ol’ friends, nothing much to do.” He looks back to when he was younger still on “Mama Drove A Mustang,” a reflective folk-rock track that touches on his unstable childhood. His parents made some questionable choices when he was young, and he has memories that detail how confusing the situation really was for him. He reveals, “Mama drove a Mustang / When she was 25 / I was six years old / How’d the hell we stay alive? / She flew down the highway / Just like Petty in his prime / Mama drove a Mustang / When she was 25,” amazed that he survived.

Ron’s life then slowed down once he found love. In the silence of the morning, he takes in all of the small, precious moments on the warm-hued duet “In The Morning With The Coffee On.” As we listen to lyrics like, “In the morning with the coffee on / Before the baby wakes / See you sitting there in silence, oh / Just waiting on the day,” we can easily picture the rays of the morning sun creeping in through a nearby window, splashing the kitchen in golden light. It’s moments like this, when everything is calm and still, that you can be grateful for what you have. This appreciation can also come through when distance enters the picture, as we hear on “I Pray I’ll Be Seeing You Soon.” Here, against minimal accompaniment, Ron confesses, “Won’t you lay down beside me a while? / Come lay down beside me and rest / My body is hurtin’ from a long day of workin’ / And you are the thing I love best,” longing to be with his partner at the end of a busy day. The love he feels is so powerful that it warps his usual views, as shared on “Where You’re Kept.” Guided by steady strings, he shares melancholy thoughts such as, “Tell me where’s the soul go / There’s so much I don’t know,” wondering what is real, what is true. In the end, he drops his guard as he reveals, “It is easy to feel / Like nothing is real / And the aches of decisions / Are not really worth / The price of admission.”

With his childhood in the past and love in his heart, Ron’s meaning of adulthood is now coming into focus. He prioritizes personal care on “I Gotta Change (Or I’m Gonna Die),” noticing that work is getting in the way. Ron asks, “What’s a man worth if he can’t work? / Was I really made as a rich man’s hammer? / Is this all there’ll ever be for me?” and yearns for the day when there will be a healthier work-life balance. He continues to ask questions on “I’m Not The Devil,” determined to refine the way he is perceived. Over the piano-driven melodies, he claims, “I might’ve led you to water but never made you drink / I’m not the devil, no matter what you think,” and asks, “What’s the measure of a man?” We learn that things are not perfect, but overall, imperfections are not all that valuable in the grand scheme of things. On the closing track, “The Life In Your Years,” Ron expands on this notion, and offers one final wish for his family. Accompanied by acoustic guitar, he sings, “God, protect all our babies / Let ‘em grow old and gray / And when I’m gone, please recall all the good I saw here.” His words are wistful and contemplative, as if he is sitting outside on the front porch, watching the day come to an end. When all is said and done, after all the stories we have heard on the album, Ron can make one final conclusion: “It’s not the years in your life / It’s the life in your years.”

On American Man, American Music, Ron colorfully weaves together significant parts of his life into one rich tapestry. He has previously mentioned, “For a long time, living on the road felt tailor-made for someone like me. And then I found love, grew up, and developed a sense of home centered around that love. But America is a character in my personal story in a way that it might not be for other people.” The songs on this album highlight Ron’s journey and his relationship with the country that raised him, but listeners will also be able to glean glimpses of themselves through his words. They might relate to the desire to be young again, or feel the love that Ron feels, or empathize with various adulthood revelations. In the end, American Man, American Music is an album for anyone, no matter which phase of life they are experiencing, who they are experiencing it with, or where it’s being experienced.