Hayes Carll – We’re Only Human (HWY 87) (13th Floor Album Review)
With We’re Only Human, his tenth album, Hayes Carll trades the wry observations of modern absurdity for something more introspective and tender, though no less sharp.
This is an artist holding a mirror to himself and finding, in that reflection, a blueprint for living with humility, humour, and hope. This album of modern Americana music invites us to look at ourselves, consider the lessons we have learned, and find a respectful way to move forward alongside others.
What emerges is a collection of songs that move with quiet confidence, rich in texture and tone, grounded by Carll’s weathered voice. Lyrically and musically, this is a cohesive piece of work that is among his finest. At its heart, this is an album about the humanity in imperfection and the grace that comes from owning our flaws.
The opening track, We’re Only Human, sets the tone with its ringing guitar and brushed drums. A melancholy piano motif gently surfaces as Carll sings, and sounds like he means it, “I feel so afraid.” Moments later the full arrangement swells into the song’s title phrase. The sonic dynamic of swelling and retreating mirrors the emotional terrain, with the acceptance of imperfection told with grace. The track closes with a sparse, isolated piano line, as if reminding us that the search for peace is ongoing.
Stay Here Awhile follows with the inviting tone of the stop-start guitar, forward-moving bass drum, and smoother vocal delivery. It feels like a conversation between old friends. There is lushness here, with enough warmth to make its message land: live in the moment, before it slips away.
Then comes Progress of Man (Bitcoin & Cattle), a satirical standout. Framed by fiddle and acoustic guitar, it has the feel of a campfire tale passed around from voice to voice. Carll’s vocal is assertive, wry, and amused, relaying society’s digital-age foolishness with sharp lines and subtle barbs. The clattering finale adds to its rollicking, ramshackle charm.
On High, the album returns to introspection. A slow strum and individual melodic notes frame the lyric, “I’m just the right amount of high,” with quiet clarity. The track has a delicate arrangement of plaintive strings and subtle bass, which allows the emotional honesty of the lyric to bloom. One Day follows, similarly spacious at first, with piercing guitar tones and soft percussion. “I’m not ready to say goodbye to this world,” Carll admits, in a voice that sounds both world-worn and quietly determined.
As the album moves into its second half, What I Will Be, injects some warmth and brightness. A faster tempo, rolling drums, and twanging guitars drive an upbeat message of self-acceptance. “I’m gonna be what I will be” is delivered with earned resolve rather than selfish arrogance. The arrangement, with its slight rhythmic shifts and melodic lifts, reflects a man stating his truth and showing the resolve to live by it.
Good People (Thank Me) leans into gentle humour and social commentary. Opening with piano and a marching rhythm, it turns what begins as a list into a story about overcoming petty obstacles between people with everyday kindness. With light brass and a spring in its step, it crescendos into something joyful. This is a reminder that common ground is often just a conversation away, and that something as simple as a shared apple can help bring people together.
The tone shifts again with I Got Away With It, a slow, regret-laced ballad about walking away from a relationship too easily. With bass strums and a quiet drumbeat, the song’s strength lies in what it does not say. The vocal is subdued, self-incriminating, and heavy with guilt. As it fades out, its backward glance is perfectly followed by a statement of purpose in the next track, Making Amends. This is a sparse arrangement where Carll’s voice is framed only by gently strummed chords and swooping drones. The lyric, “I swear I’m trying to walk in the light”, lands not as a plea for forgiveness but as a firm commitment. The theme of redemption here is grounded in the daily act of showing up, not in grand gestures, and is all the more relatable for it.
The album closes with May I Never, a gentle, gospel-tinged hymn of gratitude and commitment. It opens with picked guitar and intimate introspection before a chorus of voices joins in. Nicole Atkins, Ray Wylie Hubbard, Shovels & Rope, Darrell Scott, Gordy Quist, and Ed Jurdi lend their vocals, creating a communal chorus that elevates the song’s core message about what truly matters. The final line, “May I never forsake you again,” lands like a sacred vow.
Across the album, Carll co-writes some of the tracks with a trusted collaborator, such as MC Taylor of Hiss Golden Messenger on Stay Here Awhile. He co-produces with Quist who is known for his warm and emotionally nuanced work, and throughout the arrangements are subtle, deliberate, and polished. This is the work of musicians who understand the impact of every note, chord, and tonal shift and place them with care. Strings, brushed drums, acoustic flourishes, and piano textures support and enhance each song’s emotional register. In lyrical themes, musical delivery, and song arc the album has something of Stumble into Grace by Emmylou Harris.
Vocally, Carll moves between moods. At times, his tone is rough-edged and raw. In others, it is smooth and conversational. His delivery anchors the album, allowing the themes of personal reckoning, gratitude, and quiet persistence to land with sincerity.
We’re Only Human is more than an album title. It is a reminder, a mantra, and a gesture of compassion to both self and others. Carll offers a record that embraces the messiness of life, reckons with regret, and gently points toward a better way of being. The musicianship here is elegant because it always serves the song. That humility complements the lyrics, which explore one man’s honest reckoning with missteps and mistakes, alongside the slow, hopeful belief that he, and we, can do better. This is a self-aware gospel of grace, gratitude, and hard won redemption.
John Bradbury
We’re Only Human is out now on Hwy 87/Thirty Tigers Records
