Vintage Review: Will Kimbrough’s Americanitis (2006)

Will Kimbrough is one of Nashville’s best-kept secrets. An in-demand guitarist that has worked with folks like Rodney Crowell, Jimmy Buffet, and Todd Snider, among others, the Americana Music Association chose Kimbrough as “2004 Instrumentalist of the Year.” The biggest secret, however, isn’t Kimbrough’s talents as a musician (which are well documented at this point), but rather his little-known skills as a singer, songwriter, and performer. Nowhere is this more apparent than with Americanitis, Kimbrough’s third and most personal solo album yet.

Americanitis is Kimbrough’s reaction to the social and political aftermath of 9-11 and the Iraq War, his politically-charged lyrics delivered with intelligence and humility and an infectious musical mix of Beatlesque pop, roots rock and country twang. Kimbrough tempers the commentary of thoughtful songs like “I Lie,” “Pride” and the brilliantly subversive, Britpop-styled “Less Polite” with explorations of love and human relationships. Whereas “Act Like Nothing’s Wrong” offers some timely advice and the Okie blues of “Wind Blowing Change” heralds stormy weather for America, the spry “Enemy” is a rollicking apology to romance gone wrong while “Another Train” is a raucous showcase of Kimbrough’s six-string mastery.

Kimbrough has delivered his most fully realized album yet with Americanitis, pulling off a tight-wire act that would send lesser artists over the edge: balancing social commentary with romantic observations and making both equally entertaining. (Daphne Records, released 2006)

Review originally published by Country Standard Time magazine

Vintage Review: Todd Snider's Peace, Love and Anarchy (2007)

Singer/songwriter, humorist, social commentator, and minor genius, Todd Snider is, perhaps, a man out of time. His effortless mix of rock, folk, country, and blues would not have sounded out of place, say, during the 1965-75 acoustic songwriter-oriented era. Much like his former label boss John Prine, Snider tends to mix words, emotions, and the occasional “big thought” all together on his lyrical palette, setting it all down on a musical canvas with broad strokes.

Unfortunately, while Snider’s approach might have worked during a time when Dylan-inspired wandering troubadours as musically diverse as Prine, Warren Zevon, Bob Frank, Jackson Browne, Arlo Guthrie, and Eric Anderson could successfully record for a major label, these days the bar is set a little higher. You have to move “product” to keep a deal, and Todd Snider is a little too original, a little too eclectic to stick around the majors for long.

Todd Snider’s Peace, Love and Anarchy

During the ‘90s, Snider recorded three albums for Jimmy Buffet’s MCA-distributed boutique label, Margaritaville. Although these albums displayed moments of staggering brilliance (songs like “You Think You No Somebody” or “Rocket Fuel”) and great humor (“Alright Guy,” “My Generation, Pt. 2”), when Snider’s sales failed to exceed his critical acclaim, he found himself out on the street. Those MCA-era albums have been distilled into That Was Me: The Best Of Todd Snider 1994-1998, a fine introduction for those unfamiliar with vintage Todd.

At the dawn of the new century, Snider found a kindred spirit in John Prine and signed with Prine’s label, Oh Boy Records. During this decade, we’ve watched as Snider’s art has matured and deepened over the course of three solid studio albums for Oh Boy, and although the acclaim has gotten louder and Snider’s audience has gradually increased (albeit at a snail’s pace), the artist himself, maybe driven by ambition, decided to leave a comfortable indie home to once again climb onto the lower rungs of the major label game, releasing The Devil You Know in 2006 for Universal’s New Door Records imprint.

As such, Snider’s Peace, Love and Anarchy is the obligatory departing collection of “rarities, B-sides and demos,” culled from his time at Oh Boy Records. Although there are few revelations here – and sparse liner notes offer little in the way of documentation – there are a few gems hidden just beneath the surface. An acoustic version of “Nashville,” seemingly a demo from Snider’s East Nashville Skyline, works perfectly well without full instrumentation, while “Missing You,” a demo from 2000’s Happy To Be Here, is a little too rough around the edges to fit comfortably.

I Feel Like I’m Falling In Love

A talented songwriter with a penchant for clever phrasing, Snider has had several of his songs recorded by other singers, and a few of these are represented by Snider’s demo versions of the songs on Peace, Love and Anarchy. Personally, I’d like to see what Snider’s longtime musical foil Will Kimbrough could do in the studio with a full band version of “I Feel Like I’m Falling In Love,” originally recorded by Jack Ingram. Ingram also recorded Snider’s “Barbie Doll,” a bluesy song that displays Snider’s intelligent wordplay. The demo for “Deja Blues,” recorded by legendary country outlaw Billy Joe Shaver, is a twangy acoustic number that would also sound good with a full band behind it.  

As with any collection of this sort, Peace, Love and Anarchy includes a couple of clunkers in the mix. Snider’s cover of Jerry Jeff Walker’s “Stoney” is so lifeless that it barely registers, and it sadly includes accompaniment by not one, but two local Nashville journalists – Peter Cooper and Nicole Keiper. Cooper’s fingerprints are also all over “Some Things Are,” a decent song and a better performance, but with listing vocals that range from a folkie whisper to a bluesy growl, it’s not one of Snider’s better moments. Now I don’t begrudge Cooper, the Nashville Tennessean newspaper’s frontline music journalist, his opportunities as a musician, but as the overall producer for Peace, Love and Anarchy, surely he could have found some Todd Snider songs in the vault that didn’t involve his own (unremarkable) performances?    

It is with the musical “rarities” and not with the demos, however, that the treasures of Peace, Love and Anarchy are revealed. “Old Friend” is a fine country-flavored duet, of sorts, between Snider and Jack Ingram, with traditional country instrumentation (dobro, mandolin, steel guitar) provided by Peter Holsapple (The dB’s). Holsapple also appears on “Combover Blues,” a humorous song that should become an anthem for middle aged rockers everywhere. “East Nashville Skyline” is a love letter to Snider’s adopted neighborhood that should have been included on the album of the same name, while the mostly spoken-word “From A Roof Top” offers non-natives a bird’s-eye view of historic East Nashville.

The Reverend’s Bottom Line

Closing the album, “Cheatham Street Warehouse” is a full-blown rocker, the kind of highly-personalized story-song that Snider does as well, if not better, than anybody. With a band featuring Tommy Womack on guitar, drummer Craig Wright, and pedal steel wizard Lloyd Green, the song is a lo-fi delight, Snider’s soulful vocals barely struggling above the mix while the band bashes and crashes with ramshackle delight. Overall, the good and grand here outweighs the simply mediocre, making Peace, Love and Anarchy a solid collection with many songs that will appeal to Snider’s loyal fans. For newcomers, however, I’d recommend any one of Snider’s Oh Boy albums as the place to start familiarizing yourself with this talented and underrated performer. (Oh Boy Records, released February 15, 2007)

Review originally published by the Trademark of Quality (TMQ) blog, 2007

Vintage Review: Webb Wilder's Born To Be Wilder (2008)

Webb Wilder deserves better than he’s gotten from the music biz. During a ten-year period circa 1986-96, the larger-then-life performer delivered five simply brilliant albums that combined roots-rock, rockabilly, hillbilly, honky-tonk, surf-rock, and rockin-blues. Although WW developed a cult following stateside, along with a significant European fan base, Wilder never got the break that would have broken him to a larger mainstream U.S. audience. Instead, much of his back catalog lies wrapped up in legal contradictions and label politics, with only Wilder’s indie-label-released debut, It Came From Nashville, re-purposed for the digital age.  

Better than 20 years after the release of Wilder’s breathless debut album, the singer and a modernized version of his ‘Beatnecks’ band are still spankin-and-crankin’ out the tunes. In 2005, WW and crew released About Time, their first work in almost nine years, a collection of inspired covers along with a handful of Bobby Field originals. The acclaim enjoyed by About Time would directly lead to the recording of the live album at hand, Born To Be Wilder. Captured onstage at a Birmingham, Alabama club in August 2005, the performance was also taped for a subsequent DVD release.

Webb Wilder’s Born To Be Wilder

For those of you keeping score at home, here’s the straight poop: Born To Be Wilder is, track-by-track, identical to the bonus CD that came with Wilder’s 2006 DVD release, Live In Concert. So, if you have that DVD, then Born To Be Wilder is probably unnecessary…unless you want an easier-to-transport copy of the disc in its own case to throw in your car (for those of you who haven’t given up and joined the iPod generation). To further complicate matters, this same live set was also released in Europe by Dixiefrog Records as It’s Live Time! Did all of you get that? Good.

Born To Be Wilder features fifteen songs, about a third of ‘em from About Time, the rest culled from the artist’s deep back catalog. Some of these are Wilder classics, and songs like “Tough It Out,” the rollicking “Poolside,” “How Long Can She Last” and the crowd-pleasing “One Taste of the Bait” stand up to repeated listening in any setting. They’re all just well-constructed, superbly-performed story-songs with a strong rock-n-roll heartbeat. Some of the newer material measures up well, especially the cover of obscure country vocalist (and my former neighbor) Tommy Overstreet’s honky-tonk weeper, “If You’re Looking For A Fool.”

Unfortunately, there’s something vital missing from Born To Be Wilder. The usually brilliant R.S. “Bobby” Field’s production falls short here. Whereas Field, who has worked with Wilder since high school in Mississippi, typically captures the mythical WW sound perfectly, these performances seem to have been stripped of their spontaneity, grit and muscle. The sound is too antiseptic, the recording far too slick and well-mannered to effectively convey the WW vibe.

A share of the blame should be levied on Wilder and his band as well, all of which are solid, if not usually spectacular players. The performances here are mostly all lacking the nearly-supernatural, raw rock ‘n’ roll vibe of a typical Web Wilder show; not surprisingly, the older material fares better. But simply listen to the ‘80s-era live tracks tacked onto the end of the It Came From Nashville and you’ll hear the stark difference for yourself. Although most of the songs here are road-tested, tried-and-true rockin’ foo, Born To Be Wilder simply lacks the one-shot knockout punch we’ve come to expect from Webb.

The Reverend’s Bottom Line   

In this light, I’d grade Born To Be Wilder with a reluctant ‘B’...still better than just about any other wet-behind-the-ears, roots-rock rug-rats that you’ll run across in this day and time, but a far cry from the A+ work delivered by WW on Doo Dad or Acres of Suede, or even the A- I’d award to About Time. Maybe age is catching up with the big man, maybe this was just an off night, but when you set the bar as high as Wilder has in the past, you have to be spry enough to either jump over or limbo under...and Born To Be Wilder does neither. (Released by Blind Pig Records, 2008)

Review originally published by the Trademark of Quality (TMQ) blog

Review Roulette: Stone Deep, Teen Idols, Thee Phantom 5ive, Terminal Mycosis (1990, 1996)

Stone Deep photo by Heather Lose

STONE DEEP
“Gangs and The Govt.” b/w “Mr. Sunray”
(Secession Records)
    Nashville’s Hard Corps were local heroes in their day, an ultra-popular band that played a hell of a live set and built a large and loyal Southeastern following by doing so. That their single major label album didn’t reflect the extent of their talent and energy was a true shame, and an indictment of the way that even minor league labels try to force bands into a preconceived mold. Out of the ashes of Hard Corps came Stone Deep. With the worthy addition of former Scatterbrain guitarist Glen Cummings, Stone Deep have developed an identity and following of their own that rivals that of their musical predecessor. Their first effort is another 7-incher that has been lost in our vaults, but it’s well worth looking into.
    Side one offers “Gangs and The Govt.,” which takes a unique lyrical stand by comparing villianized street gangs to the government that battles them via police S.W.A.T. teams and Federal task forces. In light of events like Waco, it’s a bold and insightful statement, a true view from streetside. The music is pure metallic funk, a hybrid of rap styling and hard rock riffs that drill the vocals home. “Mr. Sunray,” on the flip side, is a lighter, soulful bit of musical whimsy with a funky beat and some interesting vocal play. Since the release of this single, the band has only increased their popularity in the region and recorded a number of other songs. (1996)

TEEN IDOLS
Nightmares EP
(House O’ Pain Records)
    Nashville’s Teen Idols are my favorite live band on the local scene – few of the Music City’s rock pretenders and poseurs can match the energy and sincerity shown by Teen Idols on any given night. The band’s latest HO’P vinyl release, the Nightmares EP, offers solid evidence as to why. The band kicks ass through five short and sweet, hit-a-lick and hit the door punk rock tunes. There’s just enough pop mixed into the screaming guitars and frantic rhythms of songs like “I Regret It,” “Anybody Else,” or the title cut, “Nightmares,” to make it easily accessible, just enough fervor and attitude to keep it punkish. You won’t find a bad cut on the EP, no matter how hard you may try, filled as it is with infectious rock ‘n’ roll with a real edge. I expect big things from Teen Idols, who have been building a loyal regional following and solid musical reputation for over a year and across several vinyl releases now. (1996)

Thee Phantom 5ive

THEE PHANTOM 5IVE
...Lift Off To Kicksville EP
(self-produced)
    Another 7-incher that’s been sitting on the shelves since last summer waiting for its moment in print, Nashville’s Thee Phantom 5ive are rapidly becoming Nashville’s resident gods of instrumental surf music (Los Straitjackets, who are increasingly going “Hollywood,” notwithstanding). As advertised by its title, ...Lift Off To Kicksville delivers plenty of kicks, with lively surf guitar punctuating the EP’s four scorching cuts. “Pressure” and “Our Favorite Martian” grace the first side of the disc, offering cheap thrills a plenty with ringing six strings and a steady beat. Side the second starts off with the roaring “Surf Softly,” an energetic instrumental that bravely explores musical turf that others fear to tread. The lone vocal cut of ...Lift Off To Kicksville, “(We Built A) 501 (Caddy)” sets off in search of cheesy sixties-styled thrills with vicious dueling guitars and hilarious trash talk about the “biggest road car ever!” If surf rock instrumentals are your passion, then you owe it to yourself to check out Thee Phantom 5ive, the new kids on the beach. (1996)

TERMINAL MYCOSIS
Nine of Cups
(Potters Wheel Records)
    I crossed paths with this mysterious and pseudonymous recording several months ago, awestruck by its simplicity and disturbed by its dark, brooding ferocity. A cassette-only recording of eight songs, Nine of Cups explores an experimental side of music where even angels fear to tread, an industrial-styled psychotic portrait of pain containing scraps and snippets of found vocals (was that Adolph Hitler…or Ronnie Reagan?), odd instrumentation, distorted guitarwork and demented percussion. At once both fascinating and repulsive, Nine of Cups is a cacophonic cry into the abyss. The question raised by such an artistic statement, however, is whether its creator…the anonymous “Terminal Mycosis”…is mad, or is society? (The Metro, 1990)

TERMINAL MYCOSIS
None To Share
(Potters Wheel Records)
    Nashville’s Terminal Mycosis has returned with he/she/its second effort, a thick, complex and multi-layered grouping of five compositions. None To Share rests somewhere in the musical netherworld between industrial music and cyberpunk theory, blending magick and ritual with found vocals, technological sound, synthesizer-produced rhythms and odd, unidentified random instrumentation to create a dark and disturbing hybrid too heady for many folk. Fans or followers of Psychick TV, Arcane Device, or the Hafler Trio would enjoy this; many others would simply dismiss it without knowing exactly what it is: the abyss of the soul glaring back at the listener. (The Metro, 1990)

Vintage Review: The Thieves' Seduced By Money (1989)

Singer/songwriter Gwil Owen of the Thieves had one foot in rock ‘n’ roll and the other in the honky-tonk sound of his adopted Nashville hometown long before such a blending of genres was codified as “alternative country.” The Thieves’ debut album pairs Owen’s Midwestern drawl and literary lyrics with guitarist Bart Weilburg’s six-string prowess and a dynamic rhythm section composed of drummer Jeff Finlin and bass player Kelley Looney, on loan to the Thieves from Steve Earle’s touring band.

Produced with a deft hand by Marshall Crenshaw in his debut behind the control board, Seduced By Money successfully mixes beefy roots-rock with power-pop and country twang. The tension between the band members’ rock ‘n’ roll leanings and their countrypolitan upbringings created a unique sound that was easily a decade ahead of its time. “When I Wake With Someone New” is heavily influenced by Crenshaw’s style of intelligent pop, while “Everything But My Heart” mixes Keith Richards-inspired guitar riffs with delicate harmonies in a tale of consumerism run amok. The country undercurrent of “From A Motel 6” foreshadows Owen’s future as the king of the truck-stop jukebox, and “Black Lipstick” shows a bristling punk attitude beneath its hard rock exterior.

The title cut of Seduced By Money stands out as the album’s masterpiece, however, Owen’s anti-greed lyrics driven by Finlin’s big drumbeat, Weilburg’s guitar spewing feedback and spitting fire. The Thieves would shake up their roster after this critically acclaimed debut, emerging as Gwil Owen & the Thieves and shopping a Gary Tallent-produced demo around to the industry with little or no luck. As such, Seduced By Money stands as the Thieves’ legacy, and as rock ‘n’ roll legacies go, it ain’t half-bad. (The Metro, 1989)