Song of the Day: “True Black” by Jay Buchanan

Feb 17, 2026

On Weapons of Beauty, Jay Buchanan trades the stadium-sized thunder of Rival Sons for the haunting stillness of the Mojave Desert. It is a record of restraint, swapping distorted riffs for cinematic Americana and gospel-infused soul. Recorded at Dave Cobb’s studio in Savannah, Georgia. The album was produced by Cobb, with a small ensemble of Nashville musicians including Chris Powell (drums), Leroy Powell (pedal steel guitar), Brian Allen (bass), J.D. Simo (guitar), and Philip Towns (keys). The recording sessions followed months of isolation in a windowless bunker in the Mojave Desert to disconnect from technology and modern distractions, seeking a raw, unfiltered creative process. wrote the album’s material. This environment allowed him to confront silence, process deep personal emotions, and write with vulnerability.

Where Rival Sons’ music is often a collective push of energy, Weapons of Beauty is a singular pull inward. These songs feel like private conversations overheard in a vast, empty landscape. This intimacy recontextualizes Buchanan’s voice; stripped of the need to compete with soaring guitar solos and punishing drums, his delivery becomes more nuanced and world-weary. While the band’s evolution has seen them lean into more textured arrangements recently, this solo outing bypasses those textures entirely to focus on the raw mechanics of storytelling and survival.

In the broader context of his career, Weapons of Beauty acts as a vital counterweight. If Rival Sons is the public display of power, this album is the private reckoning that makes that power possible. It is a serious, often heavy work that demands attention not through volume, but through an unwavering commitment to emotional honesty.

Among a collection of deeply personal ballads, “True Black” stands out. It is the track where Buchanan’s solo identity and his rock roots achieve a perfect, if somewhat somber equilibrium. While much of the album lives in the delicate space of folk and soft country, “True Black” introduces a driving, gospel-tinged momentum. It provides a necessary pulse that prevents the record from drifting too far into abstraction. The lyrics carry a staggering sense of accountability. Lines like “Paint my casket true black / With all I might have cost you, I hope to earn it back” possess a gravitas that feels earned through age and isolation. It has become my favorite song on the album because it also allows Buchanan to flex his full dynamic range without breaking the record’s intimate spell.