Willi Carlisle doesn’t so much as sing to you, he sings with you. The Arkansas-based troubadour, known for his booming baritone, bawdy ballads, and soft heart, returns with Winged Victory, a self-produced set that flies straight toward the sun and doesn’t flinch. It’s a record full of dirt-under-the-nails wisdom, absurdity with purpose, and the kind of moments that remind you life’s worth the trouble.

Carlisle has always written for the people outside the spotlight, but Winged Victory feels more direct, more defiant. These are songs about suffering, yes, but also about love, absurdity, sex, grief, and those fleeting, beautiful nothings that somehow make it all worth it. Whether tackling traditional ballads or delivering a soul-rattling take on Richard Thompson’s “Beeswing,” Carlisle sings like someone who means it, and like he’s hoping you’ll sing along too.

His core belief remains the same: nobody is expendable, and love - ragged, complicated, radical love - is still bigger than hate. That conviction pulses through every moment of Winged Victory, a record that’s rowdy when it needs to be, quiet when it matters, and unafraid to make a scene if it brings people closer. Even at its most outrageous, the spectacle serves the soul.

From Peculiar, Missouri’s open-hearted welcome to Critterland’s chaotic parade, Winged Victory feels like the final chapter in a trilogy about finding beauty in the broken. This time, Carlisle steps back and lets the characters speak, but his voice, full of warmth and conviction, ties it all together. Because for Willi Carlisle, folk music aspires to be more than a genre, it’s a gathering place. And Winged Victory just made the circle a little wider.