The leader of the Oklahoma country-rock band Southall, who open the upcoming Black Crowes/Whiskey Myers tour, lays bare familial struggles on the new album Kinfolk

When Southall set out to record Kinfolk, their first album in three years, frontman Read Southall had a simple rule in the studio: “Anything goes.”

Southall, the band’s self-titled 2023 record that marked its graduation from the Read Southall Band to simply “Southall,” was a deliberate effort, focused on room-filling rock sounds and edgy lyrics: Anything that evoked the country leanings of the group’s previous iteration was cut. In the end, the LP served its purpose in laying out a fresh direction for the renamed band.

But for Kinfolk, Southall wanted the full range of the group to be on display. Recorded at 115 Recording in Norman, Oklahoma, with producer Wes Sharon (Turnpike Troubadours), the album’s nine tracks successfully remove any guardrails that still may have been in existence.

“There was no wrong answer — even if we don’t use it,” Southall says of Kinfolk’s everything-at-the-wall studio approach. “There’s a song or two on here that were questionable at first, and if we would have put it down, we might not have ever finished it. We wanted to get them all wrangled, and then figure out what to do with them after that.”

One of the lead vocalist’s personal contributions is “Southwestern Son,” a track about growing up on a family farm that went under when he was just a teenager. When he sings, “Worst thing that ever really happened to me/ We lost the farm when I was just thirteen/ Turns out burnt up cotton ain’t worth nothing at all,” over his band’s electric twang, it’s autobiographical but also something he views now as a kind of blessing.

“I’ve always wanted to write that song and never did,” Southall says. “I wanted to explain why I was the way I was. I had so much identity in what my dad did in that small town. Us going broke, at the time, felt like the worst thing. But in hindsight, all my friends that grew up with successful parents are all the ones that are addicted to dope and can’t get it together. I look back now and see that, without it, I would have been just like that.”

The notion of a home and how it impacts one’s identity is hit upon time and again throughout Kinfolk. The hilarious “Okie Pokin’ Out” is a rock & roll ode to Oklahoma, with lyrics about beating the Texas Longhorns in football, enjoying burgers onion-fried, and Red Dirt music. The heart-wrenching “Worse Things,” written by drummer Reid Barber — who left the band in March after a decade — is a candid take on the decline and loss of a loved one. Its crescendo of “there’s worse things in this life than dying” is as poignant as it is haunting.

For his part, Sharon let the sounds follow the music. “Worse Things” is heavy on strings and background vocals that evoke a funeral chorus. Meanwhile, the mix of electric and percussion on “House Money” mimic the sounds of slot machines and coins changing hands in a casino.

“If you’re trying to corral everything, you’re probably gonna lose a lot,” Sharon says. “I don’t like things that are easy. Pop music is that way to me, in the worst way. It’s all going to be delineated by what this is. It’s always been that way. It’s supposed to be easy. But I like challenges, and I also think the listeners are looking for something other than the obvious.”

With Kinfolk out now, Southall are playing the biggest stages of their career. The group will open the Southern Hospitality Tour, co-headlined by the Black Crowes and Whiskey Myers, starting in mid-May and running through August.

“On the last [album], I feel like everything was built for the record,” Southall says. “There were times we were like, ‘This song doesn’t fit, we’re not messing with it.’ Here, it was really, ‘Let’s just do everything.’”

Josh Crutchmer is a journalist and author whose book (Almost) Almost Famous is available now via Back Lounge Publishing.