On her second album, one of Nashville’s biggest new stars ups the ante with a stark survey of a country in crisis. The structure of All American Made works in a strange way, grouping like-minded songs together and moving at a galloping, constantly shifting pace. It hits its peaks at the beginning and end. While the opening salvo of retro country-soul songs seems designed to bring the house down in concert, her songwriting shines brightest in the more intimate closing tracks. When she performed the title track for NPR’s “Tiny Desk” last year, it was the morning after election day. Her eyes were red with tears as she sang about losing her family’s farm and heading west in an American-built pick-up truck. A lyric that might have once inspired hope now just seemed to make her feel more helpless. “The part of me that hurts the most is the one I just can’t spot,” she sang, “And it’s all American made.” Back then, her words seemed to suggest that there was no escape ahead. A year later, on All American Made, she finds power in sticking around and bearing witness.