Although singer-songwriter Keegan McInroe is a beloved mainstay of the Fort Worth scene, he is just as often a man on the road, his guitar and songs in hand as he travels the country and the world.
When the COVID-19 pandemic closed off borders and shut down venues, McInroe found himself with something he didn’t often have — idle time at home, holed up at his mother’s in Dublin, TX.
But, rather than stew in solitary confinement, McInroe channeled the uncertainty and emotional turmoil of being forcibly removed from his passion by doing as he’s done for decades and turning life’s foibles into song. The result is the nine-track Dusty Passports and Empty Beds, which McInroe co-produced with Grant Wilborn, out now.
The follow-up to last year’s LP Agnes, Beds is an intimate excursion through McInroe’s inspirations — he includes a heartfelt cover of John Prine’s “Lonesome Friends of Science” — and interior life, as he reflects on his artistic pursuits, what they mean to him and how life, whatever it may bring, carries on regardless. The title track, which chronicles the musical legends lost in 2020, puts it best: “This old world tilts and spins/Makes its way around again.”
Full of Fort Worth talent
An artist of McInroe’s stature has a formidable Rolodex, and he puts it to good use here. Aden Bubeck, Matt Tedder, Patrick Smith, Jeff Dazey, Hannah Owens and Clint Kirby are just a handful of Fort Worth-anchored musicians McInroe enlisted to help breathe life into his latest studio effort, which, more so than his last couple records, is distinctly rooted in folk and country.
Sense of place
Befitting someone confined to his home turf, McInroe’s songs on Beds have a pungent sense of place — for instance, the opening track, “Big Year,” namechecks Sundance Square and the (now sadly closed) Twilite Lounge on Fort Worth’s Near Southside — which begs the question: When will McInroe go full bore and write concept albums about Fort Worth, Dallas and Denton? Sometimes, being a tourist in your own backyard has its benefits.
Reckoning with life
McInroe’s disarming demeanor belies the gravity of the subject matter on Beds. The pandemic was profoundly life-altering for creatives of all disciplines, and these songs underscore the toll — psychic and otherwise — it took. There’s a palpable weariness in McInroe’s voice, but also, a defiant note of hope. Bruised, perhaps, by his shift in perspective, but Beds indicates even from this unpleasant experience, McInroe extracted valuable insights.
Preston Jones is a North Texas freelance writer and regular contributor to KXT. Email him at [email protected] or find him on X (@prestonjones). Our work is made possible by our generous, music-loving members. If you like how we lift up local music, consider becoming a KXT sustaining member right here.
