What Loudon Wainwright III is doing on History should be recognizable to New Orleans listeners: Wainwright’s father, the Life magazine journalist of the same name, died recently, and this album is a kind of musical funeral. The singer frankly chronicles this event in “Sometimes I Forget,” describing a trip through his dad’s home where random objects jar him with new meanings: “But your suitcase is empty—it’s right here in the hall / that’s not even the strangest thing / Why would you leave your wallet behind? / Your glasses, your wristwatch, your ring?” In these lyrics, as well as throughout the album, it’s Wainwright’s eye for details that makes this eulogy haunting for both himself and his listeners.

But in Wainwright’s stream-of-consciousness, thoughts also follow each other down like dominoes. Other tunes here cover relationships with ex-lovers, his children, his sister and even—with welcome comic relief—his debt to Bob Dylan, a musical father of sorts. Wainwright’s trademark sharp guitar attacks and biting vocal delivery serve this work well, as does his acerbic lyricism—could any other writer take on the theme of grief so directly without veering off into sentimentality? This album reveals Wainwright to be a remarkable historian of life’s relentless cycles.