Wowed by songwriter S.G. Goodman at Kentucky Rising? She’s coming back to Lexington.

On this November afternoon, S.G. Goodman is far from the Western Kentucky terrain that has long served as home. She is instead strolling through a cathedral and graveyard in Scotland – Glasgow, to be exact – awaiting load-in for one of the final performances of a three-week European tour.

In her words, she is “killing time in the cemetery.”

The overseas run is cementing something of a banner year for the songsmith who grew up along the Mississippi River in Hickman and resides today just outside of Murray.

But she hasn’t been home much of late. The summer release of her sophomore album, “Teeth Marks,” has brought about a near non-stop regimen of touring.

There have been a few Kentucky-bound shows in the mix, like a Lexington club date with Son Volt in late April at The Burl (where she will play again this weekend), a Louisville festival outing at Bourbon & Beyond in mid-September and — most notably, perhaps — an unannounced cameo for the Kentucky Rising benefit at Rupp Arena in October alongside a songwriter pal from the Eastern part of the state — Tyler Childers.

Mostly, though, 2022 has been about furthering the familiarity of an esteemed Kentucky songwriter, one whose ruminations on love — its fragility, its resiliency and the alternating mounds of wreckage and strength left in its aftermath — form the emotional bedrock of “Teeth Marks.”

The recording also earned considerable notice outside of the Bluegrass.

Critical praise for ‘Teeth Marks’

In a June feature published in the New York Times, Stephen Deusner offered this appraisal: “With her sharp eye for character and scene and her arresting voice — which sounds like it could be emanating from a century-old 78 — Goodman, 33, is the latest in a wave of Kentucky artists who divine inspiration from their home state.”

“You’re never in control of how somebody receives what you do, so all of that is a surprise,” Goodman said by phone from Scotland. “I think my personal philosophy of making music is just to serve the song, trust that process and let it speak for itself. I think I did that on ‘Teeth Marks.’ I worked with wonderful people who helped complete that vision with me. I’m proud of it, but that’s about all I can say about it. I don’t really have a lot to say about how people receive it or not because I’m not really in control of that.

“Some of the songs on this record were written years before the pandemic hit. There was a lot solitude and inward looking going on. I feel like the overall theme of ‘Teeth Marks’ is just the marks love leaves behind — ones that are self-inflicted, society-inflicted or maybe even romantically inflicted. It’s something that’s pretty universal. Everybody wears the marks of either how well they’ve been loved or how maybe they’ve experienced the lack of it. It’s an easy album to sing because it’s really hard to be a karaoke star with something that’s not true to yourself. That’s what makes this album pretty easy to stand behind. I would like to believe that’s the reason why other people have connected with it, too.”

Roots in Western Kentucky, Murray State

Growing up a farmer’s daughter in Western Kentucky within a strong churchgoing family, Goodman’s exposure to the possibilities of songwriting expanded — along with the poetic but plain-speaking detail that would soon distinguish her own work — when she attended nearby Murray State University.

“When I went to college, I started being around people my own age who were having fun and building community out of music. I found an undeniable power that made me want to be involved in that just because of the communal aspect.

“As far as lyrics and how somebody can stir you with words, with just how they say something so simply, I would say people like Townes Van Zandt were important. He used very simple language to describe a pretty universal feeling. It’s as powerful as some of the great Southern writers like (William) Faulkner or Eudora (Welty) or (Flannery) O’Connor or any of those people. These same themes have been written about a million times. It’s just so interesting how right now in 2022, I’m really writing about the same themes that have been written about forever. It seems like there is an endless well of how you can still connect people with simple imagery. That’s pretty fascinating to me.”

Her influence as a gay Southern artist

The rise of Goodman’s visibility and popularity as an artist also meant sharing an aspect of her personality in a public way that was long known to her inner circle of family and friends — that she was gay. Goodman is open to discussing her sexuality, but is wary of those who give that part of her profile more scrutiny and attention than her music.

“Representation is a really important thing. I know that because I came from a pretty isolated rural community. There have been generations of people before me that have sacrificed so much for me to be able to complain about it being a talking point. I do that respectfully because I believe that is what they fought for. As long as people continue to put focus and emphasis on my sexuality more so than me being a songwriter, then my work will always be viewed through the lens of my sexuality and not the words themselves. That has to be understood as something that is a little bit disheartening.

“I do so much understand the importance of representation, and I’m not ashamed of who I am. But because of that, I’m being constantly othered. And that’s not the point anymore. It never was the point. Nobody fought to be othered.”

The identity Goodman endorses is one that embraces her Southern heritage, particularly one that honors the inspiration of writers and song stylists that have given the region an enduring cultural voice.

“The Southern region has endless imagery, themes and beautiful stories to continue writing about for as long as Southern people exist. There are so many writers that will tell you to write what you know, and that’s what I know. I will never be able to erase my identity as a farmer’s daughter from the Mississippi River. I mean, why fight it? I’m proud of it.”

But is there any danger of that Southern spirit thinning the more she carries her music out of Kentucky? Will it diminish at all by, say, taking a walk through a Scottish cemetery? Goodman laughs at the suggestion.

“If my accent starts slipping just a little bit, all it takes to fix it is one phone call home.”

S.G. Goodman

When: Nov. 26, 8 p.m. William Matheny opens.

Where: The Burl, 375 Thompson Rd.

Tickets: $15 through theburlky.com/events.