Judging by the sad sound of these quiet ballads from a lonely room, it would appear that Nick Lowe is much worse off than even his tailor might've guessed. Sure, the codger's got a pretty sweet set-up with Yep Roc, which has apparently waived the usual touring and promotional requirements that typically come with a record release, and who cares if his tunes never trouble the charts any more?
Lowe has always approached making solo records as a means of showcasing his new material to more capable stylists. But now most of those he respects are either dead or no longer recording, and he hasn't kept up with the younger artists to know who might appreciate his handiwork.
Consequently, At My Age is probably his most personally revealing work yet. Although he'll claim the tormented losers, lovelorn cynics and misogynistic creeps who populate these tightly drawn vignettes are products of a vivid imagination, there's a lot of Lowe here save the three heartwarming numbers he decided to cover for the sake of balance.