Vintage Review: Webb Wilder & the Beatnecks’ It Came From Nashville (1987/2004)

Brothers and sisters, I want to share the good word about Webb Wilder and the Beatnecks and their magnificent debut It Came From Nashville! This will make the third time since 1987 that the Reverend has reviewed this particular album. Not surprisingly, in a corporate music world dominated by airheaded, lip-syncing Barbie dolls and angry male fashion models with out-of-tune guitars, It Came From Nashville holds up remarkably well. In fact, much like fine wine, this version  – the album’s third incarnation (vinyl, CD w/bonus tracks, CD w/more bonus tracks) – has only gotten better with age.

Webb Wilder & the Beatnecks’ It Came From Nashville

For you poor souls who have never experienced the greatness of the man known to legions as “WW,” this is where it all began, a humble introduction to a Wilder world. Roaring into the Music City like a drunken tornado sometime during the mid-80s, WW quickly assembled a top-notch musical hit squad, a finely-tuned machine of rock ‘n’ roll salvation helmed by the man behind the throne, Bobby Fields. Although a vinyl recording is a poor substitute for the magnificence that is WW in person, It Came From Nashville did a pretty doggone good job of capturing the spirit – the zeitgeist, if you will – of the man from Mississippi. Wilder, Fields and crew masterfully mixed roots rock, country and blues with elements of psychdelica, swamp rock and surf music. Imagine Hank Williams, Robert Johnson, and Screamin’ Jay Hawkins sharing a beer at the crossroads in a midnight jam session and you’d come close to the sound of It Came From Nashville.

Friends, Webb Wilder and the Beatnecks hit Nashville like a double-shot of whiskey with a six-pack chaser. Along with Jason & the Nashville Scorchers, WW and his posse allowed a bunch of cornpone punk rockers to break loose and embrace the reckless country soul of their ancestors. After eighteen years, the songs on It Came From Nashville still rock like a house afire! From “How Long Can She Last,” Fields’ ode to youthful indescretion, to the original album-closing instrumental rave-up “Ruff Rider,” these songs are muscular, electric and 100% high-octane rock ‘n’ roll. An inspired cover of Steve Earle’s “Devil’s Right Hand” showcases both Wilder’s sense of humor and his deep, friendly baritone in this tragic tale. “One Taste of the Bait” speaks of the dangers of love while “Is This All There Is?” is a kiss-off to failed romance on par with Dylan's “Positively 4th Street.”

The original CD reissue bonus tracks are included here, a motley bunch of spirited covers that illustrate Wilder’s range and tastes. From a raucous rendition of Johnny Cash’s “Rock ‘n Roll Ruby” to a swinging reading of Steve Forbert’s “Samson and Delilah’s Beauty Shop,” these are all keepers. Fields’ instrumental “Cactus Planet” provides a rollicking good time while “Dance For Daddy” is a down-and-dirty, leering rocker with scrappy guitarwork. The six new live tracks included here were culled from a vintage 1986 Nashville performance at the world-famous Exit/In and include rarities like the rockabilly-flavored “Hole In My Pocket” and an early version of fan favorite “Rocket To Nowhere.”

The Reverend’s Bottom Line

If It Came From Nashville introduced the world to its rock ‘n’ roll savior, the album also marked Bobby Fields’ emergence as a songwriter of some skill and knowledge. These songs have held up so well over time because they are rooted in the deep tradition of rock, blues and country that was forged by pioneers like Elvis, Hank, and Chuck. Unfortunately, the world has turned so much that these men have mostly been lost in the haze of pre-fab pop stars and soft drink advertising.

Even a prophet like WW is without honor in his own country, although a loyal cult of followers continues to keep the flame burning. Rescued from the abyss of obscurity, It Came From Nashville is an important document of a time when giants roamed this planet and men were unashamed to follow the Webb Wilder Credo:

“Word hard…rock hard…eat hard…sleep hard…grow big…wear glasses if you need ‘em.” Amen… (Landslide Records, reissued 2004)

Review originally published by Alt.Culture.Guide™

Vintage Review: Tommy Womack's There I Said It! (2006)

In a city filled to the brim with musical talent, Tommy Womack often gets overlooked. I first met Womack two decades ago when he was the frontman for late ‘80s cult band Govt. Cheese, a unique hard-rocking outfit that came roaring out of Bowling Green, Kentucky like the ghost of Hank Williams riding astride a Nipponese superbike with flaming tailpipes! The band’s momentary flirtation with stardom inspired Womack’s tale of rock ‘n’ roll woe, The Cheese Chronicles, the best book about life on the road ever written (sorry Jack Kerouac!)

After the demise of Govt. Cheese, Womack immigrated to Nashville to pursue his musical career in earnest. Womack landed a gig as one-third of the Bis-Quits, a groovy little band that included the talented Will Kimbrough and future music retail exec Mike “Grimey” Grimes, the collaboration yielding one great roots-rock album on John Prine’s Oh Boy record label. Womack would then launch his solo career, almost a decade ago, with the brilliant debut album Positively Na Na in 1998.

The life of an indie rocker is a tough one, though, especially when, like Tommy Womack, your main attribute is that you don’t fit in. Womack has always been too country, too rock ‘n’ roll, too serious, not serious enough, too wordy, too stubborn, getting older…just not marketable by today’s “standards.” Never mind that he’s always made brilliant, entertaining music with highly personal lyrics that nevertheless appeal to many people that recognize the characters in the songs from the same streets we all walk together, if separately.

Tommy Womack’s There I Said It!

After 2002’s Circus Town, shortly after his fortieth birthday, Womack hit rock bottom. As he writes in the liner notes to There I Said It!, “one morning in March ’03, God came across my teeth with a skillet of White Light Truth. Whomp! I was toast at forty and destined to die poor.” Womack had a meltdown, of sorts, the sort of life-paralyzing crisis-of-confidence that drops the strongest of men to their knees and into spirals of mind-crippling depression. Months passed by and those close to Womack began to worry; more than one “friend-of-a-friend” got in contact and asked me to talk to Tommy. We swapped emails back and forth, even talked on the phone once or twice, but I doubt that my words of encouragement did little more than add to the chorus of friends and admirers urging Tommy to “feel better.”

Truth is, the personal hell that Womack was going through was something that few people will ever experience. He thought he saw his career circling the drain, his future uncertain, a divine voice saying, as he writes, “you had yer shot, thanks a lot,” leaving him older and broke with a family to support and the kind of dreams that tear one apart. Over the following three years, Womack recovered somewhat, got a crappy job like most of us, hating it like most of us and still, always, playing music. It was the music that, in the end, pulled him through, lending a voice to his fears and emboldening him to carry on.

The result of Womack’s trials and tribulations is There, I Said It!, his fourth studio and fifth album overall, a mind-staggeringly brilliant collection of songs that literally open a window to the artist’s soul. In many ways There, I Said It! reminds me of Joe Grushecky’s equally powerful 2004 album True Companion. At the same time that Womack was living through his crisis, Grushecky was looking into his own abyss. Over fifty, overshadowed by the accomplishments of his peers, Grushecky came to the conclusion that he may never make it big in rock ‘n’ roll but, “I still got a long way to go.”              

This is Tommy Womack’s story, however, and There, I Said It! is his masterpiece. The songs here recount the last several years of his life, biographical tales with great humor and insight and a little sadness. “A Songwriter’s Prayer” is a brilliant lead-off, a somber ode from a wordsmith to a higher power asking for just one good song, something to hang your hat on and build a career around. Delivered with pious vocals, mournful pedal steel and a haunting melody, the song is both tongue-in-cheek and deadly serious, with “we got to get out of this place” urgency.

I’m Never Gonna Be A Rock Star

Written about his son Nathan, “Nice Day” takes a look at life from the high side of 40, a winsome kind of tune that concludes, at the end of the day, that life is good when you have your family around you. The country-flavored “25 Years Ago” is a semi-biographical honky-tonk tale of the search for stardom by three hopefuls, spiced up with twangy steel and Womack’s upbeat vocals, the story of everybody that has ever come to Nashville (or LA or New York) chasing a dream.

“I’m Never Gonna Be A Rock Star,” from which There I Said It! takes its title, is a lilting, jazzy tune with Womack’s soulful, fluid vocals and muted yet lush instrumentation. The song’s reflective self-confession is both cathartic and one last shot at those who would try and bring the artist down. “My hair may go, but the dream remains,” the protagonist sings, getting older every day while his musician friends have forged moderate careers of one form or another, “buddies on tour buses, takin’ that ride, while I’m gettin’ older with an itch inside.” This reflective song parallels Joe Grushecky’s “Strange Days,” a realization that while every artistic effort through the years may not have been for naught, the lack of recognition – if not fame and fortune – is a bitter pill nonetheless.  

The bluesy “Too Much Month At the End Of The Xanax” is a bleak reflection on modern life, its otherworldly, electronically-altered vocals punching their way through a cloud of tortured electric guitars and discordant rhythms. It’s a style that Womack has always excelled at, self-referential talking blues paired with a hard rocking soundtrack that could just as easily been a Govt. Cheese song if it wasn’t so damn personal. By the time you reach “I Couldn’t Care Less,” a rollicking pop-rock rave-up inspired by the tired 9 to 5 that Womack endured during his “blue period,” things are starting to look up. Gigs are coming his way, and Womack delivers a lyrical coup de grace with more attitude and bile than any punk band I’ve been witness too, allaying his friend’s fears with “I feel alright, suicide is overrated, I’ve killed and lied, or at least I’ve mutilated.”

The centerpieces of There I Said It! are the epic stream-of-consciousness masterpiece “Alpha Male & the Canine Mystery Blood” and “A Cockroach After The Bomb.” Both songs evince the sense of humor that has always driven Womack’s best material, but they are also both songs that pack up the past in a box and put it on the shelf, saying goodbye to a time that none of us will ever again enjoy, much less revisit except in memory. “Alpha Male” is a wonderful recollection of a misspent youth and encroaching middle age that many of us can relate to (especially those of us whose age and experience parallels Womack’s). He sees a band poster while walking to work, bringing back memories of the day 20+ years ago when all of us would run out to see a show by any band that sounded even half-intriguing, a poster on a telephone pole an invite to a night of beer, women, and rock ‘n’ roll. Tying the past to the present and facing his own growing obsolescence, Womack admits that “can’t be a has-been when you never was.”    

A Cockroach After the Bomb

“A Cockroach After the Bomb,” a semi-shuffle with lively vocals and spry piano work courtesy of producer John Deaderick, is the yin to the yang of “Alpha Male.” The song begins by expressing an angst that no 20-something-year-old young pup could ever understand, confessing, “I get up every morning and I go to a job where I’ve thrown up on the john. I worry about who’s mad at me and spend a lot of time wishing I was gone.” He remembers his previous life, in a gang with a band, “I used to be somebody, I was a star, it takes a lot of guts to fall this far,” concluding that “I’m a cockroach after the bomb, carrying on…”

It’s with this refrain, however, that Womack touches the album’s truth, that in spite of the darkness, those that feel the muse are compelled to follow, to “carry on” no matter the price, and as Steve Forbert once sang, “you can not win if you do not play the game.” The singer asks, “what if Jimi’s lighter hadn’t lighted, what if Monet was just near-sighted, I’ll go to my grave knowing I took me a chance, I’m a cockroach after the bomb carryin’ on.” The song is a call to arms for all of us last-crop-baby-boomers stuck in a cubicle or middle management with a mortgage and obligations who still harbor delusions of creativity that our parents warned us against pursuing. It’s fitting that the album’s next-to-last song is “Everything’s Coming Up Roses Again;” Womack writing in the liner notes that “this record started with a prayer and ends with its answer.”

The song’s waltz-like demeanor and wistful vocals belie its message – that as long as you’re breathing, you can still follow your dreams. “I may be a 44-year-old office boy,” writes Womack, “but I’m the office boy that did Leno!” You’re never too old to sing that song, write that story, paint that picture, and thus sayeth Springsteen, “throw away the dreams that break your heart.” You’ve got one life to live, and as There Is Said It! slides to a close with the wiry, guitar-driven instrumental “Nice Day (reprise),” you get the sense that Womack, like Grushecky at the end of True Companion, has found some degree of peace in family, friends and, of course, his music.     

In a city filled to the brim with musical talent, Tommy Womack has often been overlooked. Age and experience has broadened his lyrical palette, however, the songs on There, I Said It! among the best he’s ever written. A skilled songwriter and charismatic performer, Womack peppers his songs with musical scraps of roots-rock, Americana, blues, and hard-rock. Ironically, initial acclaim for this album, and the positive response afforded it by nearly everybody that has heard it, could end up reviving a career that Womack thought was on life support. By any measure, There, I Said It! is the work of an artist yet to hit his peak, an emotionally moving song-cycle that defies the industry gatekeepers and rocks with élan, guts, and intelligence. (Cedar Creek Music, released 2006)

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

Vintage Review: Stealin Horse’s Stealin Horses (1988)

Dear Mom & Dad:

I know that it was a great shock to come home and find out that I’d packed up and left. I’ve gone in search of Stealin Horses, the hottest rock & roll outfit to ever hail from Lexington, Kentucky. Ya’see, ever since I heard Stealin Horses’ self-titled Arista Records debut, I’ve been deeply and hopelessly in love. Stealin Horses, as you should know, are basically Kiya Heartwood and Kopana Terry, two gorgeous and veeerrryyy talented women who write such bittersweet songs of love and betrayal, fear and endless dreams that from the opening chords of “Turnaround,” the album’s first single, through the power-pop melody of “Gotta Get A Letter” to the anthemic “Ballad of the Pralltown Café,” I knew that these were the girls for me!

So I’m going to roam the dusty, hot blacktop of America ‘til I find them. I know that they’ve got to be playing somewhere, touring this great land, bringing their energetic, hard-driving brand of rock & roll; well-written, Dylanesque lyrics and beautiful, near-flawless harmonies to the hundreds of small towns that dot the landscape. I’m sure that they wouldn’t mind having a world-renown rock critic such as myself documenting their career (after all, look what Dave Marsh did for Bruce Springteen). I’m going to give my heart to Stealin Horses.

It’s time for my bootheels to be wandering…

Your son, Keith


Dear Son:

Good riddance! After thirty years, we thought you’d never leave!

Mom & Dad


Review originally published by Metro Magazine, 1988

Vintage Review: Walk The West’s Walk The West (1986)

There’s a new breed of cowboy roamin’ the range these days, pahdner…fierce young men with one foot in the saddle and one foot on the hot asphalt of the city street…six-string guitarslingers, uniquely American artists mixing C&W influences with an undying allegiance towards Rock ‘n’ Roll with a capitol ‘R’, bands spurred on by the success enjoyed by their musical antecedents (such as the ever-amazing Jason & the Scorchers, the still-vital granpappies of the “cow-punk” legacy), bands such as Nashville’s Walk The West.

Walk The West’s debut LP is a dark, smoky slab o’ petroleum by-product, a record that reinforces as well as illustrates the basis for their incredible local popularity. Rich in texture and heavily-laden with the wailing riffs of lead guitarist Will Goleman and vocalist Paul Kirby. Walk The West experiments with a variety and diversity in styles, ranging from the Pettyesque “Backside” to the country-tinged, rollicking “Sheriff of Love,” to the urban-rocking “Living At Night.”

Kirby’s vocals are strong and clear, if appropriately nasal, and the production is almost invisible, never interfering with the music. The result is an enjoyable and solid debut that combines some of the best elements of thirty years of rock music and country influence into one nice, neat, and potent little package. The intensity contained within their music and their sense of roots proves that rock ‘n’ roll lives outside London or Los Angeles. (Capitol Records, released 1986)

Review originally published by The Metro magazine

Vintage Review: Lonesome Bob's Things Fall Apart (1998)

Now this, this Things Fall Apart album from this guy Lonesome Bob, this is the way that country music was meant to be. No big-hat, tight jeans posing for photo opportunities, or ‘Music Row’ pop crap, this is Nashville’s greatest fear: a talented and creative singer and songwriter that doesn’t fit into any of their corporate molds. Boasting one of the best baritones this side of Waylon Jennings, Lonesome Bob carries on a musical tradition that has its roots in Hank Williams and Bill Monroe and runs pure through Johnny Cash, George Jones, and Willie Nelson to the songs on Things Fall Apart.

Love and betrayal, death and despair, these are some of the subjects of Bob’s songs, delivered in a rocking honky-tonk style that sometimes gets a little loud and raucous while, at other times, is eloquently genteel. Guest vocalist Allison Moorer contributes her beautiful vocals to several duets on Things Fall Apart. Sounding a lot like a young Emmylou Harris, Moorer’s voice provides an angelic charm that counters Bob’s twangy growl. A satisfying collection of tunes that will continue to grow on you with every listen, Things Fall Apart is the kind of country album Nashville forgot how to make.

Released by Checkered Past Records, a Chicago indie that, with a roster that includes Lonesome Bob, Tommy Womack, and Paul Burch, seems to have their finger on the musical pulse of Nashville better than the dozens of labels that are located here in the “Music City.” (Checkered Past Records)

Review originally published by Alt.Culture.Guide™, 1998

Vintage Review: Jason & the Scorchers' Thunder and Fire (1989)

Jason & the Scorchers are, arguably, the best-known of Nashville’s brash young bands, an outfit with a critically-acclaimed past and an infinitely-open future. Thunder and Fire is their first album for A & M Records, and their first effort with the new band. Folks, they’ve never been better.

This is a mature and fully-realized work: Jason’s songwriting collaborations breathe new life into the Scorchers’ material; Warner’s guitar playing gets better and better; and the additions of bassist Ken Fox and skilled multi-instrumentalist Andy York round out the sound of the band, allowing them more diversity and providing a fuller, bigger feel to the songs. Drummer and co-writer Perry Baggz is like “Old Faithful,” an often (unfortunately) overlooked and underrated percussionist who manages to balance the entire chaotic crew.

The result is an album, Thunder and Fire, that is certain to become the band’s biggest. Artistically impressive, musically powerful, lyrically fresh and exciting, the Scorchers made the album that they wanted to, and it shows. The boys may have gotten older, but they’ve not gotten softer…if anything, they’ve become more passionate, more committed with age. (A&M Records)

Review originally published by The Metro, 1989

Vintage Review: Dave Mallett's This Town (1993)

I’ve long contended that the best talent floating around the “Music City” wasn’t necessarily in the country arena. Aside from the many talented rockers plying their trade in pursuit of the brass ring, there are a slew of performers who can’t be labeled with any sort of adjective albatross. Steve Earle, Nancy Griffith, John Hiatt, and Mary Chapin-Carpenter, to name a few, have all found varying degrees of success in Nashville, country or no. Now the city needs to make room for Dave Mallett.

Mallett is an old-fashioned tunesmith, with equal parts folk, country and rock entering into his songwriting equation. He is an extremely gifted lyricist, spinning beautiful story-songs out of the threads of memory, romance and tradition. His deep, fluid vocals are perfectly suited to the material he creates. Songs like “Main Street,” which commemorates that vanishing American phenomena; “Take Time,” in which a father passes a generation of wisdom onto his son; and “Change of the Seasons,” a tale of the inevitable passing of the years (and, with them, friends dear) showcase the storytelling skills which Mallett brings to his craft.

This Town is a thoroughly enjoyable album, made all the more so by Mallett’s ability, in song, to evoke memories and emotions. We could use a few more writers of Mallett’s abilities here in the “Music City;” in the meantime, we’ll enjoy those we do have...here in This Town. (Vanguard Records)

Review originally published by The Metro, 1993

Vintage Review: Jason & the Scorchers' Wildfires + Misfires (2002)

Cowpunk pioneers Jason & the Scorchers enjoy a lofty standing within the indie rock ranks. They’ve received a minor degree of fame, with a series of critically-acclaimed albums and hundreds of dynamic live shows beneath their belts. They made the jump from their own indie label to a major label back when a band’s credibility wasn’t instantly in question, later going bankrupt due to excessive label expenses.

After a brief early ‘90s hiatus, the Scorchers returned to the indie world with a handful of brilliant, if underrated albums for Mammoth Records. Now they’ve come full-circle, releasing music on their own Courageous Chicken imprint through North Carolina indie Yep Roc Records. For these Nashville rock icons, it’s been a long strange trip, indeed.

This trip is partially documented by the recently released Wildfires + Misfires. The disc is a collection of Scorchers’ obscurities, demos and alternative versions that provides listeners with greater insight into the band’s creative process. It documents the Scorchers’ evolution from brash young punks into one of rock’s most talented, if overlooked bands. The set kicks off with the demo version of “Absolutely Sweet Marie” that won the band a major label contract and also includes red-hot unreleased live tracks like “Tear It Up” with legendary guitarist Link Wray and crowd favorite “Lost Highway.”

Rarities like “Too Much Too Young” and “Break Open the Sky” present the band in a different light while alternative takes of familiar songs like “If Money Talks” showcase the Scorchers’ range and abilities. Rather than a prurient look at a band’s past, Wildfires + Misfires is a vital collection of material that rewards loyal fans for their incredible dedication while presenting a living document of a work still in progress. (Courageous Chicken/Yep Roc Records)

Review originally published by the View From The Hill Community newspaper, Signal Hill CA

Vintage Review: BR5-49's Live From Roberts (1996)

Nashville’s favorite honky tonk heroes shine with a solid debut bow. This six song EP – recorded live at the soon-to-be world famous Robert’s Western World – reveals only part of the reason why the “band from lower Broadway” have captured the hearts and minds of their loyal fans. BR5-40 play good ol’ fashioned, shit-kickin’ Country and Western, deftly mixing elements of traditional country, western swing and just enough rock ‘n’ roll spirit to keep it interesting. Rough-edged, sincere and well-versed in their art, BR5-49 deliver electrically-charged songs with a contemporary feel, numbers like “Bettie Bettie,” a heartfelt ode to pin-up queen Betty Page, or the hilarious, scandalous “Me ‘N’ Opie (Down By the Duck Pond).” A welcome alternative to the cookie-cutter, assembly-line process that “modern” country music has become, I thoroughly expect BR5-49 to become the next big thing to break out of the Music City... (Arista Records)

Review originally published by R Squared music zine, 1996

BR5-49

 

Vintage Review: Steve Earle & the Dukes’ The Hard Way (1990)

With Springsteen on hiatus, Seger over the hill, and Mellencamp off making movies, Steve Earle seems to have taken up the mantle of the “working man’s” champion with a vengeance. Earle’s songwriting skills have never been sharper than here on The Hard Way, his brilliant follow-up to the impressive Copperhead Road album.

Earle’s lyrics are tougher and leaner and sharper than ever before, his music tight, dark, and rocking. Earle has peopled this album with characters as disturbing, troubled, and real as Springsteen’s Nebraska, documenting their trials and tears on record with a skill and grace the equal of any songwriter. If John Hiatt is the South’s poet laureate of song, then Earle must surely be his darker counterpart, the troubled troubadour, romantic at heart, forever destined to walk down the other side of the tracks and chronicle the life he sees there. (MCA Records, released July 1st, 1990)

Review originally published by The Metro, September 1990

Vintage Review: Robert Jetton’s Rockin’ Ranchero (1988)

Take Robert Jetton’s Rockin’ Ranchero f’instance…if what you crave is well-produced, spirited rock & roll (with a heavy dose o’ country funk tossed in for good measure), then this is the recording for you, bunkie. Opening up with an excellent cover of Lowell George’s Little Feat classic, “Easy To Slip,” Jetton smoothly moves into a tasty Tim Krekel tune, “It’s Only Love,” delivering it with appropriately bittersweet vocals and pleasantly subdued instrumentation. A guitar-heavy, Creedence-inspired rocker, “Little Troublemaker,” kicks in, adding a bit of balance; rolling into the grand finale, a Jetton original titled “Once In Love,” a rockabilly-tinged honky-tonker that’ll get the adrenalin flowing an’ those toes-a-tappin’. An artist mining a rich and diverse talent, Jetton is a fellow to keep your eyes (and ears) on in the future. (New Bohemian Records)

Review originally published by The Metro, 1988

 

Vintage Review: Lambchop's OH (ohio) (2008)

Lambchop are a lot like one of those little puzzles that you’ll find on your table at hundreds of country-styled restaurants that dot the American landscape. They’re challenging, aggravating, and ultimately entertaining. Lambchop is often described as a “country” band, but only ‘cause they come from Nashville…truth is, there’s more soul than cornpone, more baroque romanticism than redneck angst in the signature Lambchop sound. The band’s tenth album, OH (ohio), presents a different perspective on the same finely-crafted portrait.

With the band’s ranks held to a mere eight members (from as many as 20), this may be as minimalist a collection as you’ll hear from Lambchop. Frontman Kurt Wagner conceived these songs as solo works, subsequently fleshed out to full band performances, and the result is a stripped-down, albeit still lush musical landscape that is at once both gorgeous and maddeningly hypnotic. Wagner’s oblique lyrics are as inscrutable as ever, bubbling beneath the consciousness to plague your thoughts long after hearing them. Vocals, instrumentation, and production all fit together perfectly, creating an interlocking musical puzzle that will keep the listener involved for hours. (Merge Records, released 2008)

Stand-Out Tracks: “Slipped Dissolved and Loosed,” “National Talk Like A Pirate Day”

Review originally published by Blurt magazine

Lambchop

 

Vintage Review: Justin Townes Earle's The Good Life (2008)

When you’re the son of a bona fide Americana music legend, and named after one of greatest songwriters of the genre (Townes Van Zandt), expectations are high. With his full-length debut, The Good Life, Justin Townes Earle delivers everything expected of him in spades. Not content to merely mimic his dad’s work, the younger Earle takes his impressive songwriting skills in a number of diverse directions. Whereas his pappy’s music tends to draw more from both rock and folk worlds, the younger Earle instead goes in the other direction, pulling the best from the Tennessee and Texas hillbilly traditions.

Growing up in a musical household, Earle had the opportunity to soak in all sorts of influences, and it shows in his work. An eerily-mature songwriter that is skilled beyond his years, Earle easily weaves together story-songs in his dad’s image, but with his own voice and a widely differing soundtrack. The title track from The Good Life is a delicious ‘60s-styled country throwback that sounds like a classic Faron Young tune, while the heartbreaking “Who Am I To Say” is reminiscent of namesake Van Zandt’s stark folk poetry.

Other songs on The Good Life showcase Earle’s mastery of a diverse range of country styles. “Lone Pine Hill” is a haunting Western dirge and “What Do You Do When You’re Lonesome” is a weepy Texas dancehall ballad. “South Georgia Sugar Babe” is a bluesy, Southern rock/R&B hybrid with gumbo-funk rhythms while “Lonesome And You,” with its mournful steel guitar and slow shuffle, is the sort of honky-tonk country that Ernest Tubb could crank out in his sleep. “Turn Out My Lights” is a delicate, finely-crafted folk ballad…and about as close as Justin gets to sounding like his famous father.

The vocals on The Good Life are warm, certain, and soulful throughout, and producer R.S. “Bobby” Field’s deft hand and extensive roots-music knowledge allowed him to bring out the best in Earle, perfectly capturing the artist’s eclectic sound. With boundless ambition and loads of talent, Earle easily ties together strains of roots-rock, folk-blues, Tex-Mex, Western Swing, and traditional country in the creation of an amazing, remarkable debut album. (Bloodshot Records, released 2008)

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

Vintage Review: Jason & the Scorchers' A Blazing Grace (1995)

A Blazing Grace marks the return to record of Nashville’s own Jason and the Scorchers after a six year hiatus. From the first opening chords of “Cry By Night Operator,” a classic cry-in-your-beer tale of love lost set with a modern spin, the listener will recognize this as vintage Scorchers. Showcasing a trademark sound that is created of equal parts country roots and metal-edged, guitar-driven rock, A Blazing Grace nonetheless shows the band’s growth during their lengthy time off, as well. Cuts like “The Shadow of Night” and “Hell’s Gates” are reflections of the hard-earned collective wisdom and maturity that is the new Scorchers, whereas “One More Day of Weekend,” “Why Baby Why” or “200 Proof Lovin’” are hard rocking numbers with one foot firmly placed in the honky tonk. A Blazing Grace is a welcome homecoming for the Scorchers, one of the most critically-acclaimed bands in the history of rock and roll. (Mammoth Records, released 1995)

Review originally published in the T-Bone insert of The Tennessean newspaper

Vintage Review: Steve Earle's Just An American Boy (2003)

Just a year after the release of his controversial album Jerusalem, alt-country giant Steve Earle has followed it up with the live set Just An American Boy. An audio companion to an upcoming concert DVD, this 2-CD set offers as complete a look at Earle’s talents as has been released. Your live-music-loving columnist has heard a half-dozen live Steve Earle albums through the years, most of ‘em bootlegs, and none stand up to the performances and song selection found on Just An American Boy.

Featuring a number of songs from Jerusalem, including “Ashes To Ashes” and “Amerika v. 6.0 (The Best We Can Do),” the album also includes musical snapshots from across Earle’s storied career, from “Guitar Town” and “Copperhead Road” to the classic “Christmas In Washington.” Earle rounds out the affair with a joyful rendition of Nick Lowe’s “What’s So Funny About Peace, Love & Understanding.” Earle’s effortless blend of traditional country, roots rock, bluegrass, and blues has been a major influence on the entire alt-country movement.

His championing of progressive politics and causes has shown Earle to be an intelligent and informed spokesperson for a leftist view of politics shunned by the major media. Ten years after many pundits declared his career dead, Just An American Boy proves that Earle keeps getting better as a songwriter and performer, with lots of life left in a career that has already achieved greatness. (E Squared/Artemis Records, released 2003)

Review originally published by View From The Hill community newspaper, Signal Hill CA

Vintage Review: Webb Wilder’s Acres of Suede (1996)

Webb Wilder has been kicking around the Southeast for about a decade now, wowing a loyal audience with an inspired musical blend of roots-rock, R & B, country, and raving psychobilly. He's done the major label thing, made a couple of passes through Europe, released a handful of critically-acclaimed records while touring the states constantly and still can't get a decent shot at the “big time.” His latest effort, the wonderful Acres of Suede, may not get Wilder noticed by a fickle, trend-oriented music-buying public, but it's a damn fine record nonetheless.
 

Webb Wilder’s Acres of Suede

A stylistically diverse collection of tunes delivered with heaping portions of sincerity and passion, Acres of Suede offers a musical soundtrack provided by a loose-knit collection of talented Nashville-area musicians which includes six-string wizard George “The Tone Chaperone” Bradfute and moonlighting Los Straitjackets' drummer Les James Lester. With long-time Wilder co-conspirator R.S. Field sharing production duties and collaborating on 11 of the album's 12 songs, the table is set for a typically wonderful WW musical experience.

Acres of Suede delivers on every expectation, a dozen rollicking tunes that run the stylistic gamut. “Fall In Place” is as poetic a tale of the diminished beauty of the South as has ever been written, delivered by Wilder in a gentle baritone while accompanied by K.K. Faulkner's soft, melodic backing vocals. “Flat Out Get It” is a rockabilly-styled rave-up while “Why Do You Call?” offers a tale of unrequited love from a different perspective.  

“Scattered, Smothered and Covered” offers a tale of seduction gone awry, mostly spoken lyrics backed by a steady repetitive riff, the choruses punched up with a sort of mid-‘60s Mersey Beat sound. “Lost In the Shuffle” evokes memories of Stevie Ray, being a fine representation of Texas barroom blues. Acres of Suede closes with the psychotronic “Rocket To Nowhere,” a classic swamp-rocker filled with trembling guitars and pounding drums that propel Wilder's deep, mesmerizing vocals to new heights.    

The Reverend’s Bottom Line

While not exclusively a “Southern Artist,” Wilder nonetheless brings all of the fervor of a tent revival to his albums, drawing upon the cultural depth and musical heritage of the old South in creating his trademark sound. Wilder's entire persona, the self-created and near-legendary “Last of the Full-Grown Men” is, indeed, an alter-ego unique to the South. The last of the boarding house residents, a rootless wanderer who knows every blue plate diner, greasy spoon, and thrift store in town, Wilder's character is the sort that never gets married, never has children, is always polite, and seems to travel through life on a plane apart from we mere mortals. Although every aspect of this character may not be an accurate representation of Wilder himself, with every passing season it becomes more so.

It's a powerful image, one perfectly suited to the music that Wilder performs and obviously cherishes. In the end, Wilder's biggest asset – the persona that allows him the luxury of life as a performer – may also be his greatest liability, mainstream audiences unyielding in their lack of acceptance of Wilder's charm and ability. He must either reconcile himself to eternal cult status and critical acclaim, and thus continue his considerable career on that basis, or throw in the towel altogether. For those of us who can see beyond the mask to the artist underneath, we certainly look forward to more from this underrated talent. (Watermelon Records, released 1996)

Review originally published by R Squared zine

Vintage Review: Todd Snider’s Step Right Up (1996)

Todd Snider hit a minor lick on the charts a year or so ago with his debut album, mostly on the strength of a single humorous cut that parodied the parody that the Seattle scene has become. Snider’s band, in the song, was so “hip” and “alternative” that they didn’t even play. It was a marvelous piece of work, hitting closer to the mark than many in the alt-rock world might like.

For Step Right Up, his sophomore effort, he’s put together a solid collection of songs, performed by a fine band that includes Nashville talent Will Kimbrough. I have to wonder aloud, however, if there’s anything here that is going to get heard above the din and hype of current releases by folks like Dave Matthews and that Hootie guy. Not that Step Right Up is a bad, or even mediocre disc. It’s a crackerjack collection, showcasing Snider’s incredible wit and impressive ability to turn a phrase. The music is a healthy mix of country and rock that may be just too much of each and not enough of either to receive significant radio airplay and promotion.

Cuts like “Elmo and Harry,” “Enough,” or the deceptively funny “T.V. Guide” remind me of nothing so much as a more countrified Elliott Murphy. Snider’s lyrics shoot from the hip, but are delivered from the heart and appeal to the intellect. A real talent, Snider has backed himself with an electric and energetic live band in the Nervous Wrecks. Hopefully Step Right Up will find a home somewhere in between the playlists of Triple-A and Americana formats, for it would appeal to fans of both. (Margaritaville Records/MCA, released 1996)

Review originally published by R Squared zine

Vintage Review: Todd Snider’s East Nashville Skyline (2004)

Todd Snider is one of Nashville’s best-kept secrets, our very own “cult artist” who may be too eccentric, too honest, and too talented to break through to a fickle mainstream weaned on boy bands, American “idols” and Music Row schlock. Snider is too often categorized as a “novelty” act because he infuses his folkish story-songs with humor and wit, reducing funny-cause-they-could-be-true songs like “Beer Run” or the satirical “Talking Seattle Grunge Rock Blues” to comedic status without recognizing the skill it took to weave these tales. The same critics cavalierly dismiss Snider’s more serious efforts without listening to the tears and pain behind such well-crafted tunes as “You Think You Know Somebody” or “Crooked Piece of Time.”

Todd Snider’s East Nashville Skyline

Considering Snider’s entire oeuvre (and I have heard it all), it’s time, perhaps, for a bit of rock critic heresy: Snider is this generation’s Dylan. Snider’s rootsy blend of rock, folk, blues, and country echoes that of rock’s greatest scribe. If Todd’s lyrics fall short of the weighty measure of “Spanish Boots of War” or “Blowin’ In the Wind,” well, those songs have been written. The Viet Nam War and the ‘60s are history (although Iraq may sadly provide inspiration for anti-war songs for years to come) and two generations have passed since Dylan spawned hordes of imitators. The “grunge” generation’s spokesman has attitude, wit and humor to go alongside the pathos and insight, Snider drawing inspiration from other such troubled wordsmiths as Billy Joe Shaver and Kris Kristofferson much as they did from Dylan.

It’s been ten years since the release of Snider’s excellent debut, Songs For the Daily Planet, which spawned a minor hit with the album’s hidden track, “Talkin’ Seattle Grunge Rock Blues.” During that time, Snider has suffered from problems with drugs and alcohol, spent a night or two in jail, and played hundreds of live shows. He’s suffered the deaths of friends and the whims of a (major) label’s attempts to turn him into a rocking, Paul Westerberg-styled singer-songwriter. It’s really after signing with John Prine’s Oh Boy Records that Snider has blossomed as an artist and performer. Even with an enthusiastic support system behind his work, personal demons have continued to plague Snider, landing him in rehab and struggling to overcome his addictions. East Nashville Skyline, Snider’s sixth studio album, reflects these trials and tribulations. It represents Snider’s finest musical effort yet and represents an exciting new chapter in the artist’s life.

As such “Age Like Wine” is an appropriate opening song for this new chapter. Snider pays homage to Billy Joe Shaver’s “old timer, five-and-dimer” while admitting to himself that “it’s too late to die young now.” It’s a reflective piece, the 37-year-old Snider now trying to “age like wine,” stating that “I thought I’d be dead by now,” perhaps sadly concluding “but I’m not.” The following tale of mistaken arrest is biographical, “Tillamook County Jail” recounting an unwanted stay at one of Oregon’s finest institutions. “Play A Train Song” is one of Snider’s best compositions, a tribute to a fallen friend, the kind of rowdy, charming East Nashville born-and-bred scoundrel that you’d have to have known at some time in your life to truly understand. The minimalist “Sunshine” is about suicide and redemption while “Incarcerated” is a Memphis-styled rocker that evokes Jerry Lee in a story of somebody done somebody wrong.

The Ballad of the Kingsmen

Sometimes Snider’s best performances are with some other artist’s songs, such as Fred Eaglesmith’s haunting “Alcohol And Pills.” With guitarist Will Kimbrough’s relentless fretwork behind Snider’s mournful vocals, this tribute to music’s fallen heroes – from Hank and Elvis to Gram Parsons, Jimi and Janis – hits too close to home for Snider, who has barely escaped a similar fate. Eagelsmith’s chorus, “you’d think they might have been happy/with the glory and the fame/but fame don’t take away the pain/it just pays the bills/and you wind up on alcohol and pills” sums up rock music’s tragedies as well as could be done. A cover of Shaver’s “Good News Blues” is a rowdy, bluesy raver that, as Snider writes in his liner notes, should make Shaver “dozens of dollars” in royalties; the song’s true worth is as a tribute to one of country music’s overlooked songwriting geniuses.  

Snider’s “The Ballad of the Kingsmen” is a gem. It starts out with the story of “Louie, Louie” and evolves into an inspired rant on the religious right, Conservative politicians, Marilyn Manson and the doubtful effects of rock music and pop culture on young adults when war is broadcast on TV nightly. A hippie at heart, Snider’s hilariously satirical “Conservative, Christian, Right-Wing Republican, Straight, White, American Males” puts the artist directly at odds with the mainstream zeitgeist and our current, unelected leadership. While Snider pokes fun at both sides of the political equation, he admits that he is “so liberal, I have love for conservatives.”    

The most telling moments on East Nashville Skyline come near the end. “Nashville” is a love song, of sorts, to Snider’s adopted hometown, the “Nashville you don’t hear on the radio” as he says in the liner notes. After wandering the country, from Oregon to California to Texas to Tennessee, Snider landed on the other side of the Cumberland River in historic and often troubled East Nashville. Perhaps his wandering days have come to an end, Snider singing that “there ain’t nothing wrong with Nashville, nothing wrong with picking country songs down in Nashville, Tennessee.” Snider’s reading of the pop classic “Enjoy Yourself” closes the album, perhaps an affirmation of Snider’s own struggles, the singer reminding his listeners (and himself) to “enjoy yourself, it’s later than you think.”

The Reverend’s Bottom Line

Assisted by his long-time partner-in-crime, Will Kimbrough (another of Nashville’s criminally overlooked talents), Snider has produced the most solid and enduring album of his career. If fame and fortune haven’t necessarily followed his efforts during the past decade, Snider can take solace in the fact that he nevertheless has a loyal and growing audience.

Thanks to supporters like radio broadcasters Bob and Tom, who regularly feature Snider on their syndicated morning program, Snider also has a national forum for his lively music and a future that can only get better. East Nashville Skyline represents an important new chapter in Snider’s career that, with a little luck and the artist’s talents, will continue another decade and beyond… (Oh Boy Records, released 2004)

Review originally published by Alt.Culture.Guide™ zine

Vintage Review: Will Hoge’s The America EP (2004)

Will Hoge is cursed to be an artist of some talent in an era where talent is in little demand. Two major label releases and constant touring earned Nashville’s rock ‘n’ roll ambassador a small if loyal following, but did little to break him through to a mainstream audience. I don’t know if Hoge’s major label deal is still in place, but I do know that the label did little or nothing from this scribe’s perspective to promote this promising young artist.

It is no exaggeration to say that Hoge’s The America EP is the most radical, most seditious, and most courageous musical statement that will be made this year. Forget about Steve Earle’s “revolution,” forget about punkvoter.com and Rock Against Bush – the five songs offered here by Hoge are a “state of the union” address delivered straight from the American heartland. That Hoge released the disc himself is no great surprise, considering that multi-national media corporations shy away from independent thought and the sort of artistic freedom represented by The America EP.

Will Hoge’s The America EP

In fact, Hoge did himself and his career no favor by taking a stand with these songs. After spending four years crossing the country in a van and talking to people where they played, Hoge and his band concluded that, “most hard-working Americans don’t feel they have a voice.” This epiphany led to the moment, says Hoge in the EP’s liner notes, “that’s when all of us realized that we had to make this record.” In doing so, Hoge has captured everything that those of us who love rock ‘n’ roll believed about the music in the first place – brash rebellion, the questioning of authority and, most importantly, championing the view of the “little guy.”

“Bible Vs. Gun” kicks off The America EP, a letter home from a soldier caught in the middle of a battle, his religious beliefs put to the test by this ultimate example of man’s inhumanity against man. In the midst of the violence, he sings, “I close my eyes and pull the trigger and kill these people I don’t even know.” He would gladly trade his gun for a Bible and the comfort of his faith. He asks his mother for forgiveness, praying he can still “get into heaven,” but the soldier’s fate is left up in the air as the song closes. Sparse instrumentation builds to a crescendo near the end, Hoge’s bluesy vocals soaring above the mix.

“The Other Side” is a Springsteen-esque tale of despair, an example of the extremes that people will go to when times are tight and there’s no work to be found. “The Other Side” of the song holds a clever double meaning, representing both the poor man’s vision of wealth and the people who enjoy “life on the other side” and the believer’s faith in the afterlife. This might be the best song that Springsteen never wrote, the protagonist a hard working man who makes one mistake, a desperate act committed in an attempt to improve his family’s life. The story is told from the perspective of the man’s son, who holds onto his father’s dream as he sinks into his own black pool of despair. Hoge’s plaintive vocals are accompanied by a martial drumbeat and gentle strings, creating a pastoral setting for an otherwise disturbing story-song.

The Times They Are A Changin’

The comedic “Hey Mr. President (Anyone But You)” is a roots-rock rave-up with tongue only partly in cheek. Addressed to a nameless President, Hoge points out the state of the economy, a war that is fought mainly by the poor and jobs that have gone to Mexico and concludes “anyone but you will do just fine.” Name checking John Kerry, Howard Dean, even Ray Charles, the song’s voice is that of dissatisfaction with the current administration. Hoge’s cover of Dylan’s “The Times They Are A Changin’” is aptly chosen and timely, the singer’s powerful acoustic performance sadly recalling another era and another war. Listening to it in the car the day that I bought this EP, I found Hoge’s passion and commitment to the song to be energizing and inspirational, underlining the need to enact “regime change” in America.

The America EP closes with the powerful “America,” an anthemic rocker with raging guitars and angry vocals. The song tells the story of an American soldier stationed in a nameless land, fighting a battle where “I’m not sure what I believe in, but I do things I can’t take back.” As for his mission, the soldier concludes, “Is it for freedom or oil or money/It makes no difference either way/It’s just my job, I keep my head down/And hope I make it home someday.”

The soldier returns home alive with a Purple Heart but can find no job, he’s lost his family, and the nightmare of war overwhelm his attempts to sleep. “I fight these battles still waging in my head.” The guitars scream and Hoge’s anguished vocals cry “America, oh what can I do/America, I gave it all away for you,” highlighting the sacrifices made by our men and women in uniform. It is a truly transcendent musical moment, proof that you can support our soldiers while still questioning the President’s (dubious) reasons for going to war. Perhaps unconsciously, Hoge’s words seem horribly prescient. Undoubtedly thousands of American soldiers will return home from Iraq during the next few years to find themselves impoverished, homeless and trying to live with the horrors that they have seen and experienced.

The Reverend’s Bottom Line

Hoge’s The America EP is a minor masterpiece, perhaps the most important example of rock ‘n’ roll patriotism that has ever been recorded. It’s unlikely that Hoge could have released these songs under the sponsorship of a major label. The America EP is illustrative of the freedom and potential of taking music out of the hands of focus groups and putting it back in the hands of the artists. That few people may hear this material is beside the point and quite irrelevant. The important thing is that these songs were recorded in the first place, put out there in the world for people to discover. I salute Will Hoge for taking a stand, and you should, too. (self-released, 2004)

Review originally published by Alt.Culture.Guide™ zine

Vintage Review: Bobby Bare Jr's Young Criminals’ Starvation League's From the End of Your Leash (2004)

Bobby Bare Jr’s eponymously named band cranked out two high-voltage collections of wonderfully rowdy twang-rock for two different major labels before imploding under the weight of industry expectations. Going solo, Bare Jr – scion of the country music legend of the same name – rebounded with the surprisingly morose Young Criminals’ Starvation League for alt-country indie Bloodshot. The album was a collection of lush, reflective roots-rock more akin to Nashville’s Lambchop, or maybe Josh Rouse, than to the reckless country soul of his two previous full-band albums.

For his second solo album, Bare Jr has crafted a set of songs that fall somewhere between the raucous rave-ups of his band era and the retrospective country dirges of his debut. Enlisting the help of a dozen-and-a-half of the Music City’s most talented players, including former band members Mike “Grimey” Grimes and Tracy Hackney, as well as various members of Lambchop, Bare Jr has managed to pull off the best of both worlds. “From the End of Your Leash” features songs that are, at times, rambunctious and, at other times, bitingly melancholy. No matter which speed he dials up, Bare Jr manages to seep each song in black humor and deliver his witty, intelligent lyrics in a fractured vocal style that is at once both irritating and entirely contagious.

The finest moment to be found on “From the End of Your Leash” is also possibly Bare Jr’s best song yet, the tongue-in-cheek “Visit Me In Music City.” Bare’s mythologizing of his hometown is simply priceless as he describes hills that are “filled with naked Hee Haw honeys,” guitar strings that grow on trees and police that carry capos “in case you want to change your key.” Bare Jr explains that, in Nashville, “you don’t even have to sing on key…producers with computers can fix it all.” If you visit, Bare Jr sings, “we’ll drink all night and write songs no one will sing.” The song is a glimpse of light revealing the sentimentalist behind Bare Jr’s dark worldview and an indication of the fine music we can expect from the artist in the future. (Bloodshot Records, released 2004)

Review originally published by Alt.Culture.Guide™ zine