The Relisten: Reckless Kelly - Under the Table and Above the Sun

It wasn't the first Reckless Kelly record. It wasn't the one that introduced most people to the band. And it probably isn't the album that gets mentioned first when fans start debating their favorite. But somewhere along the way, it became the one many of us keep coming back to.

Maybe that's because it's the sound of a band figuring out exactly who they were.

By this point, the Braun brothers had already spent years honing their craft. The songwriting was sharper. The musicianship was effortless. The country influences were still there, but so was the rock n' roll swagger they'd always carried with them from Idaho to Texas. They weren't trying to sound like Nashville, and they weren't trying to sound like anybody else in Texas or Oklahoma.

They just sounded like Reckless Kelly. That's harder to do than it seems.

"Let's Just Fall" kicks the whole thing off. It's clever without trying too hard, funny without becoming novelty, and carries that unmistakable Willy Braun wit that has always been one of the band's greatest strengths. But it's only the beginning.

"Vancouver" remains one of the finest songs the band has ever recorded. It's cinematic and restless. It's impeccably written and has gone on to become one of the tentpoles of what is possible with songwriting in this scene. You can practically see the miles rolling past through the windshield as it unfolds. It's the kind of song that reminds you Willy Braun has always been one of Americana music's most underrated writers. I typically hate making comparisons like this, and it's not just due to the sonic similarities...but there's a lot of Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers in just about everything Reckless Kelly does. In the best ways. That influence is all over this album.

"Nobody's Girl" features some of the best riffs and guitar work of David Abeyta's storied career. Just a masterclass in how to build the melodies to match the lyrics. It aches in all the right places, grooves when it needs to and is carried by a melody that lingers long after the song ends.

And that's really what this record does so well.

There aren't many moments where Reckless Kelly feels like they're trying to impress you. There's no need. The songs simply unfold with confidence, backed by one of the tightest bands Texas Music ever produced.

That's what separates good bands from great ones. The chemistry. Famed producer Ray Kennedy pushed all the right buttons on this one.

Listening today, what stands out most is how timeless it feels. There aren't production tricks that scream a particular era. There aren't songs chasing radio trends. It's simply a collection of exceptionally well written songs played by musicians who trusted the material enough not to overcomplicate it.

That's probably why it still holds up.

Reckless Kelly has a collection that stand second to nobody. They've won awards. They've headlined festivals. They've become one of the defining bands of the Red Dirt and Texas music movement.

But Under the Table and Above the Sun feels like the moment all of those pieces came together.

It captures a band that had already found its identity but still had something to prove.

And maybe that's why I keep returning to it. It's the sound of a band completely comfortable in their own skin, making the kind of record they wanted to make.

Those are usually the ones that last.