Ella Langley's 'Excuse The Mess' explores stellar songwriting at heartbreak's edge

Country's emerging rock 'n roll moment wouldn't be complete without an Alabama artist whose wit is as biting as her pen is mighty.

From Emmylou Harris and anyone backed by the Muscle Shoals Rhythm Section to Jason Isbell and Jamey Johnson, there's a strong lineage of rock-friendly and country-based artists tied to the heart of the American South.

Ella Langley, 24, joins them after having spent just enough time in college at Auburn University to realize that a childhood spent around harmonicas, guitars and pianos at family reunions ten miles outside of Montgomery offered her a lifetime of education ideal for her preferred job: Nashville singer-songwriter. She was raised on a steady diet of her father's Southern and classic rock from the 1970s and 1980s, her mother's love of the melodic folk-rock harmonies of the Grateful Dead and Peter, Paul and Mary -- and, of course, her brother's Nickelback MP3s

Via her May 19-released, eight-track debut EP "Excuse The Mess," Langley's graduated almost right on time from the College of Rock with a B.A. in B.S.

She's the name fastest to the lips of the cream of the crop of a decade of Nashville women whose undeniable rock chops kept them outside of Music Row's desire to service very little outside of R&B and pop-aimed country iterations for the past two decades.

Elle King counts her as a vital collaborator on her breakout country album "Come Get Your Wife" (she's the co-writer of "Out Yonder," plus has credits on four songs overall) while she's also shared stages with Lainey Wilson.

Nashville has allowed her songwriting chops to surge to the forefront. Playing in college bars and at hometown weddings doesn't lend itself to playing many original songs. However, Langley's comprehensive knowledge of music seeps into her debut EP.

Songs like "Country Boy's Dream Girl," "Make Me Wanna Smoke" and the Koe Wetzel collaboration "Why We Fight" are approachable, eschewing flowery metaphors for direct emotional confrontation.

"You know it pisses me off when it's 3 a.m. and you come home drunk from the bar," she sings on "Why We Fight." The chorus of "That's why we fight, put lightning in the sky, start smashing every bottle we keep bottled up inside" speaks directly to the notion of aggressive lyricism.

"I used to write what I thought people wanted to hear. But then, my heart got broken," Langley told The Tennessean.

Digging into her well of musical inspirations for answers, she mined a myriad of honest desires aided by self-described "alt-country" co-writers like Davis Corley taking a few mid-songwriting session cigarette drags for some nicotine-sparked inspiration.

"Make Me Wanna Smoke" stems from Langley and Corley standing outside of a studio smoking cigarettes, making Langley think about a situation very typical for the average female, mainstream country music-loving 20-something:

Hanging out with a guy you like, trying to mimic his cool outside of a bar or at a bonfire and smoking his cigarettes until you begin dating. Then, after the inevitable breakup, the sudden smoking habit you've developed disappears in the first breath taken after crying over heartbreak.

In a town where far more aggressive behavior has been celebrated in the name of broken-heartedness, something so coldly austere about leaving a man behind, like kicking a bad habit, highlights Langley's preternatural maturity.

Other songs like "Country Boy's Dream Girl" offer something connective about her upbringing.

"I grew up hunting and doing every outdoor thing my father wanted -- I might curl my hair and put on makeup, but hell, I'm a hard-working girl who played four-hour bar gigs and carried my guitar to my car afterward," Langley says with a laugh.

"I'm an open book, unafraid of digging in my brain and telling the truth. My only plan is to keep going. Pedal down. All gas, no brakes. Outside of achieving No. 1s and awards, I just want to reflect on being a real person living real life."

This article originally appeared on Nashville Tennessean: Ella Langley's 'Excuse The Mess' explores stellar songwriting at heartbreak's edge