Album Review: Kathy Mattea – Coal

Kathy Mattea’s recently released album, Coal, is a superb concept album centered around coal and it’s effect on the people who depend upon it for their livelihood. She’s taken a collection of songs that stood well on their own when released previously and molded them into her greater thematic vision to tell the story of coal mining families and a brief history of coal mining itself. It’s a heavy bit of material that doesn’t pull any punches while covering the ramifications of coal mining, but it’s developed well enough to not become a bore or depressing or preachy–the songs stand as is, on their own.

Descending from coal miners and hailing from West Virginia herself, Mattea decided to record the project after twelve miners died in the Sago Mine Disaster in 2006, but she was only nineteen when she began thinking about making the album after hearing “Dark as a Dungeon” for the first time. Though the Merle Travis tune has been covered often through country music’s history, Mattea brings something new to her interpretation, blending it seamlessly into the concept she’s created and ultimately placing more weight on the lyric than earlier renditions.

It’s a an album that Mattea says she couldn’t have done justice when she was twenty, so through the years, she’s been collecting the songs that comprise the final product. Produced by the venerable Marty Stuart, it’s her first album without drums and features mostly acoustic arrangements that place the songs at the forefront, punctuated by powerful yet understated vocal performances that aren’t prevalent among younger singers.

“The L&N Don’t Stop Here Anymore” begins with a fiddle intro imitating a train as it carries us through time, past pride, hardship, fear, death, and eventual longing. It winds past the Blue Diamond mines and through the green, rolling hills of West Virginia, and through Harlan County, revealing the stories of coal miners like the ghosts of Christmas, giving us an insight into their lives.

The album closes with “Black Lung,” a song written by Hazel Dickens, and after a short mandolin intro, Mattea dares to follow Dickens lead and sings the song a cappella, turning in an impressive performance; and when the last note falls silent, the finality of the song, the album, and the life hits you like sixteen tons.

This is music with a purpose, it’s authentic, personal, and informative, educational even, telling a story and celebrating a lifestyle from start to finish, and yet it doesn’t fail to entertain–and for that, it should be commended.