Review - Mya Byrne: Rhinestone Tomboy
Photo by Niki Pretti
Rhinestone Tomboy, Mya Byrne’s delightfully titled new album, is pure shimmering starlight from start to finish, a head-nodding, foot-tapping, thigh-slapping feast of Americana.
The buffet ranges from sunny ‘70s California pop rock to snarling Neil Young guitar noise, from Arlo Guthrie storytelling folk to revved-up Johnny Cash boom-chicka-boom country and “You’ve Got a Friend” style gentle kindness.
The album comes out April 28, the first from the new Nashville sister label to Kill Rock Stars.
Pairing the music with lyrics authentically, relentlessly human, Byrne has crafted an album you want to play while cruising down the road with the sunroof open and your arm hanging out the window. And credit to producer Aaron Lee Tasjan: The album sounds great.
The album kicks off with a trio of gems.
“It Don’t Fade” is a shiny slice of hope, even when times are hard. The song’s crunchy electric guitar, marching bass and wistful optimism are like a walk on that first warm and sunny day of spring when everything is right with the world, with winter fading away and summer on the horizon.
“But if you don’t wanna go there / if you feel like you’re beyond repair / like a rusted gutter in a pouring rain / Try to think about the sunshine, even in a bad time / Even when you fall behind, it don’t fade.”
“I’m Gonna Stop” is a pleasantly melancholy stroll about taking a break from romance. Times were good, times were bad... now it’s time to reset and work on myself for a while.
“I’m gonna stop thinking 'bout what I might miss / Gonna stop dreaming of a first kiss / I’m going deeper... back to my childhood bliss / I’m gonna stop thinking about this.”
“Autumn Sun” is the killer track. Glammy la-la-la-las swoop and dive above a bed of electric guitar laid down by Byrne and ace player Ellen Angelico that sounds like that of uber outlaw Waylon Jennings. If Wet Leg was in your song rotation last summer, put this one on this year’s.
Mid-album sits a one-two punch of full-on country. “Please Call Me Darlin’” is an easy shuffle about trying to woo a lover, while “Sweetheart of Mine” is a bright and bopping bouncer about a confused lover with a Valentine’s Day conundrum.
Elsewhere, “Devil in My Ear” broods, then growls, then goes full guitar freakout. “Let Me Lend You a Hand” is all sweetness, an offer to help, no matter what.
There’s a larger context here.
Mya Byrne is trans and queer. This album lands at a time when people are boycotting a brand of beer because they think trans people shouldn’t exist and legislatures are passing laws to deny them their rights to health and happiness. Trans and gay people are being treated as something less than human.
Rhinestone Tomboy testifies to how wrong they are. Byrne bleeds humanity throughout this album. We all love. We all laugh. We all cry.
There’s nothing on the album that overtly addresses the rights of trans or gay people. Rather, it stands as a testament to how lucky we are that people such as Byrne exist and that they produce fabulous music such as this.
But Byrne says it better than I do. Album closer “That’s What Lucky Means” is a beautiful coda, wrapping us in a warm embrace. Strumming a guitar alone, Byrne reflects on the good fortune of the little things in life that are really big things – discovering good music, a nice cup of coffee, her mom’s pork and beans.
“Some folks think it's fancy living, getting more than you are given / Tailored clothes and long black limousines / But I’d like to think it’s simple / I’ve done well with just a little / and it started with a belly full of beans / That’s what lucky means.”
It’s us – we’re lucky. We’re lucky to have this album. And we’re lucky to have Byrne in the world, being comfortable in her own skin and producing great art that says “this is me, this is us.”
That’s what lucky means.
Find out more about Mya Byrne at the links below: