Words by Sean Moeller, Illustration by Johnnie Cluney, Recording engineered by Josh Niles at Big Light, Nashville, Tennessee
On the tender inside of her right arm, near the elbow, is a small tattoo of the iconic flying W logo of Waylon Jennings. It's a marking that Nikki Lane put on herself for her own personal reasons - maybe an affinity for outlaws, being drawn to them, being interested in them and the words they write, the music they make or it could just be that it's to let those men, whomever they are, know that she's one of them. She could very well be the woman who could give them the best run for their money, raising hell and carrying on, shooting out the moon and forgetting that mornings even exist as anything other than groggy adversaries. It's to let them know that they have met their match when they get involved with her. She will mess around and she will be a seductress, but she is everything that deadly poison is meant to be. She is the tainted apple - appearing ripe and juicy, deliciously red - that will bring you down with one chomp, or she could just be that that sweet fruit that you hoped she would be upon first sight.
The way that the Nashville singer and songwriter behaves and the way that she sings is a mixture of the sauce at the bottom of an old, maple whiskey barrel, the cute perkiness of Dolly and some of that coal-mining,, mountain songstress flavor. It's very down-home and it's just as much coated with experience and secret darkness that suggests that she's found herself in enough pickles and sketchy places that she knows them when she sees them, knows what's sure to be fiery before a match and a flint ever make appearances. The characters in Lane's songs seem like the kind of women that you could be with if you could just break them of their occasionally poor decision-making. They wind up in the wrong beds, wringing their hands about such foolishness, and they're known to drink the hell out of bottles. You get the feeling that they're not willing to change all that much, but they might change just a little, for the right reason, for the man who can throw a side-car on her as they go storming into oncoming traffic, straight for the border. They're wanderers and daydreamers.
The person in the song, "Gone Gone Gone," is thinking about getting out of town and just leaving it all behind - the people, the problems, the loose ends - off to be a pioneer out west, just to see what's there, see if there's something new that she can get herself into, find another place that she'll eventually tire of, exhaust and want to leave far behind as well. She doesn't want to be found. She lights the bridges on fire. The men stubbornly keep following, offering to buy the next round and more bullets for the moon.