Steve Poltz has never been built for stillness. The Canadian-American songwriter has spent decades in motion, bouncing between mischief and heart, comedy and confession, usually all within the same verse. On JoyRide, he lets that restless energy run completely unchecked. No polish, no guardrails, and absolutely no seatbelt.

Best known to some as a founding member of the Rugburns and to others as a longtime collaborator with Jewel, including co-writing the 1996 hit “You Were Meant for Me,” Poltz has long existed slightly outside the rules of the singer-songwriter world. He tours constantly, writes compulsively, and treats the studio less like a laboratory and more like a prank waiting to happen. JoyRide exists because someone managed to trick him into recording “just one song,” and then forgot to tell him when to stop.

The album opens with “If It Bleeds It Leads,” a perfect entry point into Poltz’s warped sense of humor and razor-edged observation. From there, JoyRide swerves without warning. “Petrichor,” named for the scent that rises after rainfall, balances sweetness and absurdity, while “At It Again” finds Poltz teaming up with Jim Lauderdale for a cosmic collaboration powered by Emmylou Harris rhythm section vets Bryan Owings and Chris Donohue. It’s loose, human, and alive, with musicians reacting in real time rather than chasing perfection.

The title track “JoyRide” lands like a deep exhale after too many highway miles, wrapped in Poltz’s unmistakable wordplay and off-kilter warmth. Lines tumble out in bursts of optimism and nonsense that somehow make perfect emotional sense. It’s the sound of someone choosing joy not because life is easy, but because it is ridiculous enough to deserve it.

Then Poltz does what Poltz always does. He pokes the bear. “The Son Of God” closes the first half with a grin that dares the listener to lean in, mixing provocation with punchline and trusting the song to find its own landing spot.

Side two kicks the doors back open with “Love a Little Bigger,” a raucous co-write with Leftover Salmon’s Vince Herman that leans hard into communal spirit and barroom momentum. “Fixin’ Up,” a quiet standout, sneaks up as the emotional hinge of the record, the kind of track that reveals itself slowly, like change at the bottom of your pocket. “New Tattoo” spins a cautionary tale about permanent decisions made in temporary moments, while “Brand New Liver” imagines organ replacement as a more reasonable option than sobriety.

The album closes with “Hairlift,” a finale that sums up Poltz’s worldview in one perfectly unhinged line, delivered with the confidence of someone who knows exactly how strange he sounds and does not care.

JoyRide captures Poltz the way he actually exists. Caffeinated, curious, reckless in the best sense, and fully committed to the moment. There’s no studio sheen here and no digital safety net. Just real people making noise, chasing ideas, and letting songs land wherever they may.