Review: Bonnie Whitmore Sings, But Doesn't Shut Up, on Searing 'Last Will and Testament'

Artists, especially female artists, have been told to “just shut up and sing” since popular music was invented. The modern era of “shut up and sing” arguably came about when The Chicks (at that time The Dixie Chicks) were banned from radio for criticizing George W. Bush. But, my, how times have changed. While the chorus of “shut up and sing” still rings out on social media, the roots music genre has spent the last four years creating some of the best topical, politically charged, and socially conscious songs since the '60s “folk scare.” On her latest album, the searing Last Will and Testament, Bonnie Whitmore is fearless in tackling everything from victim-blaming rape culture to politicized terrorist attacks to the mental health crisis that has taken so many artists, all wrapped in a bass-heavy soulful blues-rock package.

It's no surprise that the bass is out front on Last Will and Testament. In addition to her own work, Whitmore has spent much of the last two decades providing the rhythmic anchor and backing vocals to everyone from Hayes Carll to John Moreland to Jimmy Dale Gilmore. But, while she's garnered attention for her past solo efforts, Last Will and Testament is the album that should put her firmly in the spotlight going forward.

While there is no filler on the album, it definitely has a few highlights, and one shining standout; the punk-tinged “Asked For It.” Where much of the album showcases Whitmore's sweet and soulful side, “Asked For It” channels her inner Exene Cervenka, with a snarl that is matched perfectly by the amped up electric guitar wail. When Whitmore snarls “She's the kind of girl you said asked for it. Didn't see you coming but she asked for it” with a chorus of male voices shouting “asked for it” to drive the point. “Go ahead and blame the victim. Why should violence have consequence?” she asks. It's a song I want to see live because it's ready made to slide into a setlist behind a ballad to rile an audience up and get them back into the groove.

Whitmore takes a more moderate approach on another of the album's standout tracks, “Right/Wrong.” Co-written with producer Scott Davis, it tackles the ever-increasing divisiveness that threatens to tear the country apart. It's fitting that the song was released after the recent circus that was the first 2020 Presidential Debate. When Whitmore croons “words can get lost in the face of what really matters” or “what's the point of liberty in the land of the free without you and me”, I was certainly thinking about that particular bit of partisan bickering and musing if Bonnie Whitmore might be willing to take over moderating the next debate. I'd watch it.

But there are other, more personal, songs on the album that also shine. The album's title track, which kicks off with a heavenly choir before a fuzzed-out bassline slams you back down, deals with the epidemic of suicide affecting the arts community in recent years. It's an almost discordantly upbeat rocker for such a dark topic, but it works really well to convey the mix of sorrow and anger felt by the family and friends who are left behind. “I'll work on my reverie. The only one that hurts is me”, she croons. “It's just one more off my list. And we can seal it with a kiss. And I'll just go back to writing my last will and testament.”

The album's most personal song is its closer, “George's Lullaby.” A jazz bass and strings driven tribute to Whitmore's late friend and mentor, bassist George Reiff, it's a gentle exit to an album that is, in places, almost bruisingly frank.

If you're one of those people who want your artists to “shut up and sing”, be careful what you wish for. Whitmore put all of the rage, confusion, pleas for compassion, and screams of frustration of the times into the songs that make up Last Will and Testament. She's singing, but she's a long way from shutting up, and I for one couldn't be happier about it.