Will Oldham returns this week with Beware, the latest release in prolific career that has averaged an album a year since 1993. Beware continues the evolution of Oldham’s work under the Bonnie “Prince” Billy moniker, which he debuted in 1999 on I See A Darkness. Darkness, a haunting and achingly intimate masterpiece that exposed a bleak facet of the amiable folk singer, remains one of the best folk/roots albums to be released in the past fifteen years.

Nine years and eight albums later, Oldham released, Lay Down in the Light, an album as content and satisfied as Darkness was bitter and despairing. A more luscious production style included violins and flutes to complement Oldham’s iconic voice and signature piano and guitar progressions.

Light recast Oldham as a lover and family man, pulling him out of the basement and out onto the porch. But only on Beware is he finally liberated and joyful enough to share laughs and hollers with the whole neighbourhood on tracks like “Beware Your Only Friend” and foot-stomper “I Am Goodbye.”

Lyrically, Oldham continues to probe relationships and isolation with his trademark eclectic style. “You Can’t Hurt Me Now” admits “The more I feel myself/The more alone I am,” but is set into a more positively independent context; his solidarity is now an asset, not a vice. The album ends with a defiant, victorious battle cry, subtly invoking Oldham’s inner punk mindset: “Alone I may be, but afraid ain’t me!”
The arrangements on Beware are Oldham’s richest to date. Incorporating ensemble harmonies (rather than his own overdubs) and more professional recording standards contribute to the inviting tone of the record. “You Can’t Hurt Me Now” blends the twangy lead guitar and syrupy lap steel of roots country with xylophone fills for a modernized soundscape. “Beware Your Only Friend” uses lush fiddle and guitar lines to focus the ecstatic choir into a driving anthem. Touches of brass and woodwind also brighten many tracks, like the trumpet stabs and flute melodies of “Afraid Ain’t Me.”

On the humble track, “Death Final,” Oldham graciously sighs, “I am loved by all,” a statement not of pride but of deathbed satisfaction, as if he is finally able to let go of his isolationist tendencies and be content with himself before he j oins the “pit of bodies.” For his legions of fans, this comes as a welcome confession that Oldham has finally realized he is not alone at all, but a deeply appreciated and respected staple of modern music.