The Requiem of the Forgotten
When Justin Townes Earle‘s eighth studio album, also titled The Saint of Lost Causes, arrived on May 24, 2019, it landed like a somber, heavy sigh in the musical landscape. While it didn’t ignite the mainstream charts, its impact was felt deeply within the roots and Americana communities. The album peaked at number 6 on the UK Americana Albums chart, number 2 on the UK Jazz & Blues Albums chart, and number 23 on the US Billboard Americana/Folk Albums chart. This quiet, critical success speaks to its authenticity and the niche it so perfectly filled: it wasn’t a record for mass consumption, but a profound statement for those who still appreciate a well-told story and a melancholic melody.
The title track, and the album as a whole, represented a significant shift in focus for Earle. For years, his music had been a deeply personal and introspective journey, chronicling his own struggles with addiction, his complex relationship with his father, Steve Earle, and his road to sobriety and family life. With The Saint of Lost Causes, however, Earle turned his gaze outward. He became a conduit for the unheard stories of America’s marginalized, the disenfranchised, and the working-class people left behind by progress and corporate greed. The album’s cover, an Orthodox icon of St. Jude, the patron saint of lost causes, is a deliberate choice, signaling Earle’s mission to give voice to those on the brink of despair.
The song’s meaning is a stark and unblinking look at a world divided into “sheep, got your shepherds, got your wolves amongst men.” It is a narrative of desperation, a prayer whispered in the dark by someone who has run out of options. The “Saint” isn’t a figure of hope in the traditional sense, but rather a final, desperate plea for grace when all else has failed. Earle’s lyrics are rich with biblical and poetic imagery, weaving together a tapestry of sorrow and resignation. He paints a picture of a world where betrayal is commonplace and salvation feels impossible. It’s a song that speaks to the cyclical nature of poverty and hardship, where one bad choice can lead to a lifetime of regret.
This shift in perspective was not just an artistic choice but a deeply personal one for Earle. Having just become a father to a baby girl, he felt a new responsibility to look at the world his daughter would inherit. He was compelled to address the societal ills he saw around him—the opioid crisis, the decline of industrial towns like Flint, and the environmental devastation wrought by corporate negligence. The song is a testament to this newfound sense of purpose, a powerful and poignant reflection on the American condition. It’s a reminder that even in the face of profound sorrow, there is an enduring, fragile beauty in the human spirit, and a dignity in the struggle itself. Listening to this song now, with the tragic knowledge of Earle’s passing in 2020, it feels less like a song and more like a final, poignant testament—a haunting echo of the stories he so desperately wanted us to hear.