Massy Ferguson has long been a reliable source of good-time Americana, a band that could soundtrack a beer-soaked evening with friends just as easily as a cross-country road trip. But on You Can’t Tell Me I’m Not What I Used to Be, there’s a shift—subtle at times, striking at others. The heart of the record beats with reflection, reinvention, and maybe even a touch of regret.
That shift is most evident in “So Long, Carry On,” a song that feels almost hymn-like, centred around the haunting harmonies of Zac Fisher and the devastatingly simple lyric: “I got everything I didn’t want and I got it over twice.” It’s a moment of raw honesty that sets the tone for the album’s more introspective side.
“Seaside Town” might seem jaunty on the surface, with hints of bluegrass, but dig deeper, and it’s no picture-postcard getaway. Likewise, “I’m Almost There” toys with the idea of being “wasted,” but this isn’t Poison’s “Nothin’ But a Good Time.” The weight of experience hangs heavier here.
There’s a Wilco-like reflection to “You Were So High,” while “Lights Get Low” carries more urgency, its rock-tinged guitars doing justice to a track that name-checks Diamond Head. Elsewhere, songs like “Shrunken Head” veer into left-field territory, hinting at new creative directions for the band.
The real departures come in the record’s final stretch. The sparse, piano-driven “Lovely Lad” is mournful, its strings adding an almost cinematic sadness. Then there’s “Angels in Heaven,” a closer that lurks with a jazz-like air, even conjuring echoes of The Doors.
It’s tempting to ask whether this is a permanent shift for Massy Ferguson or just a compelling detour. Either way, You Can’t Tell Me I’m Not What I Used to Be is an album that challenges expectations—one that trades some of the band’s carefree charm for something deeper, weightier, and ultimately more affecting. As someone with the attention span of a toddler, I can appreciate the allure of a compelling detour.
Rating 8/10
