It’s mighty hard for the pop-oriented rocker to make a living in Nashville – just ask Bill Lloyd, Will Kimbrough, or Josh Rouse, pop aficionados all. That hasn’t deterred Will Owsley from plying his trade in the “Music City,” however. A better-than-average axeman in a city overflowing with six-string wizards, Owsley has managed to survive nicely on session work and tours with folks like Amy Grant and Shania Twain. In his heart, though, he’s closer to Paul McCartney and Neil Finn than to Hank Williams and Merle Haggard. His critically acclaimed debut album, released by Giant in 1999, was recorded in Owsley’s living room over the period of four years; it took the talented singer/songwriter about the same amount of time to deliver his sophomore effort, The Hard Way. Fans of the pop/rock aesthetic should be thrilled to rediscover this underrated talent, no matter how long the wait…
The Hard Way is unabashedly polished, carefully constructed songs complimented by lush instrumentation with just the slightest bit of chaos seeping in around the edges. Owsley’s pop craftsmanship is akin to fellow travelers like Ben Folds or Ben Kweller, Beatlesque flourishes accompanied by influences from folks like Crowded House, Todd Rundgren and Paul McCartney’s solo work. Songs like “Be With You” or “Down” are guitar-driven delights, sharply written and precisely performed with a harder edge than the piano pop of Folds or the folkish radio-rock of Sheryl Crow. An accomplished tunesmith with an eye for detail, Owsley’s skilled wordplay emboldens his observations on romance and relationships with authority. Owsley’s artistic palette is a wide one – “Dude” sounds like an inspired cross between Oasis and Coldplay while “Rainy Day People” includes swirls of psychedelic guitar and trippy harmonies like Jellyfish. Wherever the music takes him, Owsley always manages to imprint familiar sonic territory with his own unique signature.
There’s a lot to like about The Hard Way. If modern rock radio wasn’t so obsessed with the same marketing schemes that plague pop culture as a whole these days, there would be room for artists like Will Owsley (and Josh Rouse, etc) to have their voices heard. Until that wonderful day when talent overshadows image, there’s comfort to be had in knowing that true believers like Owsley continue to create beautiful music for a small, appreciative and loyal audience. (Lakeview Entertainment, released 2003)
As explained by Steve Earle’s excellent liner notes, the songs on Sidetracks aren’t outtakes, but rather “stray tracks” that were previously unreleased or saw the light of day only on soundtrack or tribute albums. Much like Bill Lloyd’s All In One Place album, Earle’s Sidetracks confines these stray songs to a single package, providing extensive musician credits and song-by-song commentary. The resulting album is every bit as remarkable as any title in Earle’s impressive catalog, a vital collection of original songs and inspired covers that illustrates Earle’s talents as a songwriter, performer and bandleader.
Steve Earle’s career has always been plagued by misconceptions, his early Nashville albums dismissed by ignorant Music Row hacks for being “too rock ‘n’ roll,” while mainstream rock audiences failed to embrace Earle as “too country.” The truth lies somewhere in between, perhaps, but I believe that Earle is too enormous a talent to be confined by one style or genre, a fact illustrated by Sidetracks. A roots-music traditionalist who has had a tremendous influence on the alt-country scene, Earle has nonetheless flirted with hard rock, reggae and Celtic music as well as country, folk and bluegrass throughout the span of his nearly twenty-five year career.
“Johnny Too Bad,” recorded with Knoxville, Tennessee roots rockers the V-Roys, redefines the Jamaican classic with a harder edge while the Irish-flavored instrumental “Dominick St,” recorded with the Woodchoppers in Dublin, extends Earle’s love affair with Celtic music. A powerful cover of Nirvana’s “Breed” showcases Earle’s rowdy rock side, tho’ maybe not as well as “Creepy Jackelope Eye,” a lively collaboration with Eddie Spaghetti and the Supersuckers. An alternative version of “Ellis Unit One” performed with the Fairfield Four achieves an eerie spiritual edge lacking in the solo version used in the film Dead Man Walking. The folkish “Me and the Eagle” stands in stark contrast to much of the material on Sidetracks, while a twangy, bluegrass-tinged reading of Lowell George’s “Willin’” captures the spirit of the oft-covered original.
Not everything on Sidetracks clicks, most notably a cover of the Chambers Brothers’ classic “Time Has Come Today.” A technologically crafted duet with Sheryl Crow that was recorded in Nashville with Crow in LA, the performance may have seemed a good idea at its conception, but it suffers in execution. Crow’s vocal contribution is lackluster and the band fails to achieve the manic (drug-fueled?) energy of the original, although the Abbie Hoffman vocal samples are pretty neat. This minor cavil aside, Sidetracks is an extremely worthwhile addition to your CD collection, a significant compilation and a revealing look “backstage” at the multi-faceted talents of Steve Earle. It’s telling that by collecting his various cast-offs and rarities, Earle has cobbled together an album that still stands head and shoulders above most of the country and rock music that will be released this year. Though other artists should probably hang their heads in shame, Earle fans can rejoice in Sidetracks. (E-Squared/Artemis Records, released 2002)
