Vintage Review: Ken McMahan's Ball & Chain (1998)

Ken McMahan is a friend of mine. In the interest of honesty, I have to begin any review of his work with such a disclaimer. I’ve gotten drunk with Ken, broken bread with him (or, in our case, shared pizza), talked about music, his career, the universe in general. He’s a great guy…and with all that ethical bullshit out of the way, I can also honestly say that McMahan is one hell of a rocker as well.

Case in point: Ball & Chain, McMahan’s third album for the French Dixie Frog label. With each subsequent outing, Kenny’s songwriting gets tighter, more structured, and more interesting. His consistently invigorating six-string work improves with each album and on Ball & Chain he’s added some interesting flourishes, musical dimensions that are absent from his earlier work. Throw in a backing band that’s as tight as a fist and as scary as an I.R.S. audit and add the musical and intellectual contributions of McMahan’s partner-in-crime, Dan Baird, and you’ve got one helluva foot-stomping rock ‘n’ roll record.    

With his former band, the power-blues trio the dusters, McMahan earned a well-deserved reputation across the Southeast as a fine blues guitarist. His solo stuff tends to run more towards the rock end of the spectrum, however, Kenny cranking up Ball & Chain with “Way of the World,” a fiery little number that sets the tone for the rest of the set. The world-weary lyrics of “Something I’ll Never Know” are punctuated by constant swamp-rock guitar riff that is literally drenched in saltwater and cypress. McMahan’s traditional cover song this time out is Robert Johnson’s “Kindhearted Woman,” a song Kenny claims for his own with a fat, looping guitar line that creates an instrumental cadence for the vocals.

The title track is one of two McMahan co-wrote with fellow Nashville talent Tommy Womack. Opening with some nifty honky-tonk piano, the song becomes a rollicking working-class anthem, a sort of “why me, Lord?” plea for the everyman. My favorite cut on the album, however, is “Wicked World.” Written by Dan Baird, ex-Georgia Satellite, acclaimed solo artist and member of Nashville band Betty Rocker, Baird knows his way around a song, and “Wicked World” is no exception. A bad-ass slice of dark-hued rock, McMahan’s haunted vocals and the accompanying concertina-wire sharp guitar licks combine to make for a powerful musical moment. McMahan sounds like he’s got Robert Johnson’s fabled hell-hounds on his trail, his guitar howling while bassist Kyle Miller and former dusters’ drummer Jeff Perkins provide a steady heartbeat to fuel Baird’s tale of secular woe and spiritual despair.

Even though much of what McMahan sings about is, well, kind of depressing – stuff like lost and unrequited love, romantic betrayal, and a man’s burden to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders – he does so with such style and energy that you never realize the somber nature of the material. Unlike a lot of today’s wet-behind-the-ears “one hit wonders,” young musicians who have barely ventured outside their hometown, McMahan has experienced a bit of the world. He’s been following the dream longer than he’d probably care to admit, but what comes across in his music and on CD is the sheer, unadulterated joy of being able to play rock ‘n’ roll. It’s this element that’s missing from contemporary music and it’s something that McMahan has in abundance. Ball & Chain is a strong tonic, a fresh breath of life for a flaccid rock corpse in sore need of the stiff kick in the ass McMahan provides. Now, will somebody stateside please pick up this record before I have to come to your house and do something impolite? (Dixie Frog Records, 1998)   

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

Vintage Review: Max Vague's Love In A Thousand Faces (1983)

Amid the thousand and one faceless metallic hair bands which grace the "Music City" there stands Max Vague, a Nashville newcomer, and a welcome anomaly - a singer/songwriter of considerable talent, an artist who is neither country or hard rock. Love In A Thousand Faces is Vague's impressive debut, a 14 song collection showcasing Vague's lyrical prowess and immense musical skills. The songs presented here, hard-edged pop/rock replete with melodic experimentation, evince a variety of influences – the Beatles, Peter Gabriel, many electric British folkies – but are freshly original and completely uncategorizable.

It is difficult to pigeonhole Vague, which is good (preferable, actually) for a young artist. At times this debut overwhelms with Vague's interpretation of the pop format, other times it amazes the listener with his tendency (and ability) to take musical chances. You'll often find yourself saying, "what was that I heard?" Play it for your friends and they'll be saying, "what is that I'm hearing?" Love In A Thousand Faces is a thoroughly engaging disc and a fine introduction to one of Nashville's newest talents. (MetroLord Records, released 1983)

Review originally published by The Metro, 1983

Another Side of Nashville: Kris Kristofferson, Billy Joe Shaver, Shooter Jennings (2007)

Kris Kristofferson - Live From Austin TX (New West Records)
In the annals of country music, the company he’s kept has often overshadowed Kris Kristofferson’s achievements. After all, it’s hard to hang out with heavyweights like Willie, Waylon and JC without suffering by comparison. However, Kristofferson’s friendship with those giants was built on his status as an equal. More than a mere songwriter – even if he has had some 500 songs recorded by other artists – Kristofferson built his own legacy over the past four decades by being one of the most original and influential voices in country music.  
    Part of the excellent Austin City Limits series, Live From Austin TX captures a dynamic Kristofferson performance from September 1981. Sure, the sixteen songs featured include the expected hits, one-of-a-kind songs like “Loving Her Was Easier” and “Help Me Make It Through The Night,” but it also offers much more. Drawing from his ’81 album To the Bone, songs like “Magdalene” and “Star Crossed” document Kristofferson’s divorce from singer Rita Coolidge and uncertainty over his future and career. It’s heady stuff, Kristofferson’s marvelous baritone supported by a whipsmart band that includes guitarist Stephen Bruton and keyboard wizard Donnie Fritts. With a back catalog in serious disarray, Live From Austin TX is a fine snapshot of the greatness of singer, songwriter and performer Kris Kristofferson.

Billy Joe Shaver - Greatest Hits (Compadre Records)
Many of country music’s greatest talents have considered him their favorite tunesmith, and his songs have been recorded by everybody from Bobby Bare and Kris Kristofferson to Elvis Presley. Chance are that you’re probably familiar with Billy Joe Shaver’s songs even if you have no idea of who the man is himself. Suffice it to say that what makes Shaver a great songwriter is that, for good or for bad, he puts a large part of himself into each of his autobiographical songs. As such, listening to Billy Joe Shaver’s Greatest Hits is like opening a book and looking at a cracked and faded old portrait of the artist.
    Shaver is a Texas storyteller in the vein of Guy Clark or Townes Van Zandt. He’s grizzled and gruff, humbled by too many miles and sobered by too much alcohol, and he pours his life into every song. Greatest Hits includes some of Shaver’s best known material, like “Georgia On A Fast Train” and “Old Chunk Of Coal,” as well as some of his best songs in “Old Five and Dimers” and “I Couldn’t Be Me Without You.” The album also offers up two previously-unreleased songs, but it’s the recent remake of the high-flying “Live Forever,” recorded with Big & Rich, that best showcases Shaver’s warm voice above his songwriting skills. Billy Joe Shaver’s Greatest Hits offers up old-school honky-tonk country with a bit of Lone Star spirit for both new and old listeners alike.

Billy Joe Shaver - Everybody’s Brother (Compadre Records)
There’s often a fine line between sin and salvation and, like most outlaws, Billy Joe Shaver has one foot in the honky-tonk and one in the church pew. Shaver has long expressed the desire to record a “gospel” album and it’s fitting…the same weathered voice that speaks convincingly of barrooms and broken hearts is also perfectly suited for singing the praises of Jesus. And it’s not like religion is a little-traveled path for Shaver; he has typically included a spiritual song on each album through the years.
    With Everybody’s Brother, however, Shaver focuses more on salvation, bringing friends like Kris Kristofferson, John Anderson, Marty Stuart, Bill Miller and Tanya Tucker along for the joyous ride. Listeners expecting a collection of staid church hymns will be disappointed; although Everybody’s Brother has its loftier moments, much of the material approaches God from the sinner’s side of the fence, and songs like the rollicking duet with Stuart, “Winning Again,” wouldn’t feel out of place in a beer-soaked honky-tonk. Shaver’s performances, captured by producer John Carter Cash, are heartfelt and passionate while the album’s closer, a late-70s duet with Johnny Cash and a 15-year-old Eddy Shaver burning up the guitar, will put a smile on the face of any listener.

Shooter Jennings -The Wolf (Universal South)
For a musician, living up to a famous father’s legacy can be tough – just ask Hank Junior, or even J.C. Cash. It’s album number three for Shooter Jennings, not counting last year’s pitch-perfect live set, and it seems that Waylon’s boy done got it right…just forge your own path and let the comparisons be damned. In the past, Jennings has dealt with the looming presence of Waylon’s shadow either by rocking hard or by defiantly picking up the country outlaw torch. With The Wolf, Jennings seems to have hit the sweet spot, an artistic middle ground. There are fewer references to his infamous daddy in the grooves, and more musical experimentation. Jennings’ vocals are softer and more soulful, albeit stronger and more assured than on his first two albums, and sound less like Waylon than they ever have.
    In fact, The Wolf seems less inspired by the ‘70s “outlaw movement” than by the work of Texas wordsmiths like Guy Clark and Townes Van Zandt. The slow story-song “Concrete Cowboys” waltzes to the sound of weeping pedal steel while the rocking talking blues of the autobiographical “This Ol’ Wheel” shoots straight to the heart of Jennings’ birthright. A solid cover of Dire Straits’ “Walk of Life” is juiced up with spry fiddle and energetic vocals while “Old Friend” mixes some damn fine bluesy guitar work with Mariachi-flavor. Not to say that Jennings doesn’t get rowdy with his friends every now and then. “Higher” kicks up some dust with a swampy Southern rock vibe and the title cut is a grand, epic musical journey with swells of sound and crashing instrumentation. With The Wolf, Shooter Jennings continues to evolve as an artist and songwriter, doing it his own way…and of that, I’m sure his daddy would be proud.

All reviews published by Country Standard Time, 2007

Vintage Review: Max Vague's Timing (1998)

For Timing, his fourth release, Max Vague has pulled a few new musical twists out of the seemingly endless bag of tricks of his, mixing healthy portions of Britpop influence with his usual ethereal progressive fare. Songs like the stunning “Cold As This Machine” or “Paralyzed” show an increased vigor to Vague's songwriting, a maturity that incorporates even more diverse influences that ever before. With more melodies and livelier song structure added to his trademark musical marksmanship, Vague has developed into a world class tunesmith.

The title track, however, might well be Vague's finest moment. With its sneering throwaway line “you've come this far, you might as well swallow,” the song is a near-perfect accounting of the struggle an artist faces in retaining their integrity as well as a wickedly satirical look at an industry that devours lives and creativity alike. Originally conceived as an eight song EP, Vague and bassist Ross Smith flew off the deep end into insanity, ending Timing with a twenty-eight minute instrumental opus. There's a method to their musical madness, however. Dark, eerie, provocative and deceptively mesmerizing, “Crack In The Sky” serves as an excellent bookend to Timing, carrying the listener beyond the dreams spun with the preceding songs, sojourning into the dreamland from whence they came. (MetroLord Records, released 1998)

Review originally published by Thora-Zine (Austin TX), 1998

Album Review: Shadow 15's Days of Innocence 1983-85 (2023)

Back in the early daze of ye olde Gnashville, when Pilgrims were still burning witches at communal bonfires fueled by squid oil, the city’s corporate music scene was blitzed by groups of youthful guitar-wielding hooligans and sonic thugz whose idea of a good time was poking popular local DJ and armadillo farmer Ralph Emory with a cattle prod. Of all these shouty gangs of droogs commandeering the city stages, few had the original chops and songs to break out beyond the regional college concert scene. Shadow 15 was an anomaly, the band bringing the goods night after night, but they got little more than a sniff from the major label loan sharks, and only released a single four-song EP, Far Away, in 1985 for Tim Lee’s (The Windbreakers) independent Big Monkey Records label. An expanded 21-track version of Far Away was released on CD by Spat Records in 2008, receiving favorable-to-raveable reviews before Shadow 15 disappeared once again into the inky blackness of rock ‘n’ roll obscurity…

Shadow 15’s Days of Innocence 1983-85

Thankfully, Take The City Records from Spain has released Days of Innocence 1983-85, a ten-song vinyl compilation that hits the sweet middle spot between the Far Away EP and the previously-released CD. Collecting a representative sample of Shadow 15’s immense talents, Days of Innocence displays a band heavily influenced by Bob Mould and Hüsker Dü but one also jumping up and down with cool, innovative musical ideas of its own that stand tall even today. Album-opener “Time Dies” is one such example, with a rat-a-tat machinegun drumbeats and ethereal guitar licks leading into a general cacophony from which singer Scott Feinstein’s vocals leap out with punkish intensity. The short, sharp mid-song guitar solo is a thing of haunting beauty, and the entire melodic frenzy makes one wonder if label A&R drones had steel wool crammed into their orifices when first hearing Shadow 15.

Every track on Days of Innocence is equally, if not more compelling, Shadow 15 intuitively blending punk-rock fury with metallic Sturm und Drang to create incendiary performances like “So Far Today,” Feinstein’s guitar wonderfully intertwined with Shannon Ligon’s inspired fretwork (including a touch of Dick Dale-styled surf twang) while bassist Barry Nelson and drummer Chris Feinstein support the song with a Godzilla-strength rhythmic foundation. With its grungy, MC5 vibe and no-frills jive, “The Last Forever” is the great lost college rock hit, Shadow 15 kicking out the jams with an energy and enthusiasm that I’ve only witnessed from Sonic’s Rendezvous Band…and that’s just the first side of Days of Innocence!

Side two’s overclocked rock ‘n’ roll elixir will peel the wallpaper from your dingy walls, starting with the nuclear explosion of “A Room With You,” the band coaxing unnatural sounds from their axes, which ride below, above, and alongside the song’s melody, or “Endless Day,” which sports an alluring succubus six-string intro, or “Return,” which blends Detroit ‘guitar army’ lightning with British Goth thunder (think Ted Nugent shining Andrew Eldtritch’s boots), or…well, you get the picture.
 

The Reverend’s Bottom Line

Shadow 15 was a band a good decade ahead of its time, too raw and musically adventurous to appeal to the flocks of glam-metal sheep and too legit to fit into a hardcore straitjacket. They would have knocked ‘em dead in 1991 or ’92, but that was then and this is now and it’s not too late for fans of REAL ‘80s rock ‘n’ roll to rediscover Shadow 15. RIYL Hüsker Dü, The Wipers, Sonic Rendezvous Band, The Replacements, SST Records, Hammer Studio horror films, 1960s-era biker flicks (or any Russ Meyers movies), Mad magazine, or EC Comics. Grade: A+   BUY! (Take The City Records, Spain) 

Vintage Review: Max Vague's S.O.S. The Party's Over (1993)

Nashville is a hotbed of rock ‘n’ roll talent, but not in the way that one might think. Outside of the so-called “alternative” throngs – bands trying to chase the trend of the moment -- are a handful of musicians who are taking risks, ignoring the popular currents, and following their own artistic vision. One such artist is Max Vague...

A Music City immigrant by way of Los Angeles, Vague brought with him some curious baggage, such as artistic integrity, a distinct musical style and the tools and ability to bring his vision to fruition. Vague made a splash earlier this year with the pop-flavored Love In A Thousand Faces, his impressive debut CD. Hot on the heels of that musical triumph, Vague closes 1993 with the release of S.O.S. The Party’s Over.

Musically, S.O.S. draws from a veritable wellspring of influences: Peter Gabriel, Eno, Pink Floyd...all pulled together into a cohesive musical whole. Vague provides nearly all of the instrumentation here, creating a lush, complex landscape that is a wonder in its beauty, awe-inspiring in its diversity and breathtaking in its scope. Upon this soundtrack, Vague has embroidered his lyrical poetry.

Imaginative, colorful, and intriguing, the songs on S.O.S. are like a puzzle box whose solution awaits discovery. Whereas some of the cuts are more straightforward in their understanding – the title cut’s theme of modern alienation, for example – others, such as the haunting “Home” (with its fatalistic refrain, “we slide into obscurity with drugs and MTV, we know too much, we can’t survive, they’ll never let us out alive, our only option is to hide and let them roll on by”) require a bit more thought. The rose-colored glasses on the disc’s cover may provide Vague with a different take on life, but even they can’t hide the political reality presented in cuts like “Believe” (“we focus on the sleight of hand in some foreign land and when our minds return we’ve forgotten what we’ve learned...”).

Vague is one of the most exciting artists working in rock today, an uncompromising musician and songwriter following his own muse through a commercial no-man’s land, consequences be damned. As good as his debut disc may have been (and make no mistake, it is quite impressive), S.O.S. The Party’s Over is miles ahead of that effort, showing a remarkable artistic evolution and maturity. That Vague pulls off these recorded hat tricks with just a little help from his friends (MetroLord being his own, self-financed imprint) is even more remarkable yet. But then, the guy’s too damn good for a major label...they wouldn’t know how to handle something this original. (MetroLord Records, released 1993)

Review originally published by R.A.D! Review and Discussion of Rock ‘n’ Roll zine, December 1993

Vintage Article: Life, The Universe & The Metro (1987)

This was written, only slightly tongue-in-cheek, for the second anniversary issue of The Metro in August 1987. If I only knew then what I know now...who’d have thought that The Metro would make it two years, much less enjoy its fifth anniversary in 1990, to finally peter-out somewhere between year six and seven? Gus sold the remnants of the rag to Radio Lightning in 1992, a deal brokered by Ned Horton, who became the publisher, bringing on Daryl Sanders as editor and eventually changing the name to Bone Music Magazine.

For all the criticism leveled at Palas, however, one fact remains true – nobody else has published a magazine focusing on Nashville’s non-country music scene longer that Gus and The Metro, and many have tried in the years since. Even today, with the Nashville rock scene thriving as never before, with a highly-regarded national reputation, there is no publication like The Metro to champion the scene...and ‘tis more the shame. Left unsaid in this article was how it took mountains of cocaine and gallons of beer and booze to cobble together a new issue every two weeks. Still, we accomplished quite a bit on a shoestring budget and little or no institutional support in the early years...    

A long, long time ago in a galaxy far, far away… (Naw, that won’t work…it’s been used before).

Once upon a time, in a magic kingdom lived a... (Though none the worse for the wear, it’s somehow inappropriate).

Let’s try this one more time...

Gus Palas had a dream…not just your garden-variety, earthshaking, wet-the-bed kinda dream, but a vision of great magnitude and magnificence. He was going to start publishing a music magazine…and not just any kind of music mag. GVPIII was going to create a rag that featured Nashville’s fledgling rock ‘n’ roll performers in its pages, the local scene mixed, editorially, with coverage of the growing indie/college radio performers and the ever-changing world of big-league pop music. Throw in a dash of soul, a soupcon of jazz, and a healthy dose of “new-kid-on-the-block” brashness, mix well and serve: The Metro.

When I first met Gus back in the summer of ‘85, he told me of his dream. I, for one, thought that he’d spun this fantasy after a late-night snack of spicy anchovy burritos…and you know what kind of dreams that will produce! But whereas I dream of Sybil Danning in a Jacuzzi filled with butterscotch pudding, Gus whipped up some ridiculous ideas about founding a publishing empire.

Go figure...

Shrugging away my misgivings, I got involved with The Metro in those long and hot early days before the first issue. After all, I’d been involved with speculative publishing projects before, from Thom King’s groundbreaking Take One magazine, Nashville’s first alternative rag, to The Nashville Gazette, to a host of other magazines, tabloids, and one-sheeters. It’s not often that one gets a chance to participate in another’s dream, and even if Gus was an odds-challenging loony-toon, well, I possess more than my own share of genetically-mutated mental illness myself.

The first issue of The Metro hit the stands on or around August 16th, 1985 and featured yet-to-become superstar Jon Bon Jovi and local talents In Pursuit on the cover. That first issue was mild, if not calculated. We tossed in the Music City’s longest-lived rockers, the White Animals, along with a handful of record reviews and some local news. Sixteen pages chock full o’ fun, and it only took us a couple of months of protracted labor after several months of pregnancy to give birth to the monster. On the seventh day, we looked at it, and it was good.

Then we all went out and got obscenely drunk...

That next morning, Gus was rattling our cages and rudely shook us from our collective stupors. “Time to work on Number Two!,” he screamed, or something to that effect (memories are foggy after much time and abuse). “Well, isn’t this a fine kettle of fish,” we, the staff, thought. “We slave and sweat to put out the first issue and now this clownhole Palas actually wants us to begin work on a second one?” Surely, though, with the experience garnered from the mistakes of the previous endeavor, we’d be able to whip together a second Metro in little or no time at all…

Right enough, that second issue was a breeze. Sort of like trying to change a tire while utilizing a pair of toothpicks in place of the jack. Not unlike squeezing toothpaste back into the tube.

Not any easier...

After the proper two-week gestation period, the second issue of The Metro hit the streets, and what a King Hell mutant baby it was! The honeymoon was over, kiddies, we were here to kick your rears and open your ears. We began writing rock ‘n’ roll history in those pages, as we not only became the first publication in the known universe to slap the beautiful Screamin’ Sirens on our cover in an exclusive pre-tour interview (they played Nashville a couple of days after the issue appeared, creating a legion of ‘Music City Sirens Love Slaves’ with their charm and talent). The Metro was also the first rag to review John Cougar Mellencamp’s breakthrough album, Scarecrow. We threw in features on Nashville faves Jason and the Scorchers and Bill Lloyd’s phenomenal Sgt. Arms band and went home feeling good about the job we’d done.

With the third issue, we changed from the digest format that we’d used on the first two in favor of a larger, tabloid style that allowed us to offer you, the reader, more features, more reviews, and more news than any other rock rag in the Southeast. We set yet another pair of dual milestones with that one as we introduced you to both Webb Wilder and the Georgia Satellites in features by Bill Spicer and myself. Webb has become somewhat of a local legend, and is soon to be an international smash (could it be any other way?); and although we were the first magazine in the U.S.A. to discover the Satellites (after their historical reunion show at the sadly defunct Cantrell’s), the rest of the world now knows them after a Number Two single and a Top Ten, Gold-selling debut album. The Satellites’ success led to tours with Bob Seger and Tom Petty…and placed another feather in our caps.

From that time on, The Metro became a staple in Nashville. Sure, the issues were still hard to produce and, as some weeks proved to be longer than others, I was often accosted in public with cries of “Hey, Gordon ya scumbag, when’s the next Metro gonna be out, huh??” After taming these anxious readers with a large and pointy stick, I assured them that the next issue would be in their hot little hands soon enough. And it always was, give or take a week or two…

That first year of The Metro saw an evolution in rock and pop music as college radio grew from a cultish, big-school plaything to a major force in presenting new talent. During those weeks and months, the pages of The Metro remained on the cutting edge of creativity, not content to follow the trends and cover the established and old-hat, but rather create the trends and discover tomorrow’s superstars, yesterday. The Metro boldly trod where no publication had feared tread before, offering interviews and features on the likes of Motley Crue, Omar & the Howlers, Love Tractor, Amy Grant, Heart, Robyn Hitchcock, Rosanne Cash, the dB’s, Green On Red, NRBQ, and countless others, long before you read about them elsewhere.

And, oh those record reviews…where else but in The Metro could one find the diversity of style and taste that would include coverage of such mainstream acts as Jon Butcher, Stevie Wonder, Rush, ZZ Top, and Elton John with such off-the-beaten path talent as Billy Bragg, Julian Cope, Mofungo, Kate Bush, Lou Miami, Mojo Nixon, Eugene Chadbourne, the Smithereens, etc, etc. We unearthed the Meatmen! We found Adolph Hitler living in Argentina! WE DISCOVERED THE BEATLES!! (Oops, sorry…I got a little carried away. I’m much better now.)

From that very first issue, The Metro has attempted to accurately reflect and support Nashville’s talented and every-growing local music scene. From those early days when a mere handful of bands were playing an equal number of clubs, we’ve seen the local scene evolve from an embryonic idea to a minor aggravation to those who would keep Nashville pure, country, and mediocre to a fully-bloomed, nationally-recognized hotbed of creative radicalism.

For every local talent scarfed up by the major labels, from Jason and the Scorchers to the Sluggers, as well as immigrants like John Hiatt, the Georgia Satellites, and Billy Chinnock, there are a dozen and one as-of-yet unsigned talents like Threk Michaels, the Questionnaires, and Raging Fire. We’ve tried to cover them all, from In Pursuit to Afrikan Dreamland, from Bill Lloyd to Webb Wilder, from the Royal Court of China to Walk The West and beyond. Above all, we’ve tried to be Nashville’s music magazine, and if that means turning you on to the talents of Dessau, Will Rambeaux, or John Jackson, so be it.

The Metro has never been afraid to take a bold editorial stand, however popular or unpopular it may prove to be. We’ve taken great pains to foster originality and creativity, not just publish press releases and ad copy opinion. When the Missus of Tennessee’s erstwhile Presidential candidate, Tipper (and her cohorts), attempted to castrate rock lyrics, we spoke loudly in opposition to any form of censorship. The Metro came out, in print, against the evil apartheid regime of the white-minority ruled South Africa, and stated its disdain, in no uncertain terms, towards racism in any way, shape or form, both within the music industry and beyond. We supported Bernie Walters in his attempts to have the rock ‘n’ roll museum located in Nashville…and provided valuable coverage to the Nashville Entertainment Association’s Music Extravaganzas and the annual Summer Lights festival.

The second year of The Metro proved to be as ground-breaking and seminal in influence as the first. Among other gems, the magazine published pieces on the Psychedelic Furs, George Carlin, Otis Blackwell, the local jazz scene as represented by Café Unique and JC’s, profiles of Mickey Basil, Stan Lassiter, a historical remembrance of the Byrds’ Gram Parsons, and exclusive coverage of Bubba Skynyrd’s takeover of KDF.

As The Metro enters its third year, the magazine continues to grow in vision and importance. We’ve switched from bi-monthly, increased circulation and distribution, and are no longer the unproven kid in diapers. The Metro has passed the audition and has become one of the longest-lived and influential publications of its kind, with copies finding their way into hands across the United States and the world, receiving a fair amount of international acclaim and accolades from such far-strewn locals as Germany, Poland, and France. The Metro celebrates its second anniversary with this issue, even thought the odds are still against its survival…

…and your humble writer is still along for the ride. ‘Cause it’s not every day that you get to participate in someone else’s dream…and even if two years at the helm of a gang of assorted loonies, artistic thugs, and creative malcontents may have warped his sense of reality only slightly, I’m still betting that Gus can pull it off. And even if he doesn’t, it’ll be a hell of a ride!

Won’t you join us?

Keith A. Gordon
Somewhere on Lower Broad
August 1st, 1987

Vintage Article: The Demise of Bone (1997)

Nashville’s media community lost an important voice with the demise of Bone Music Magazine. Published monthly by Tuned In Broadcasting, owner of radio stations WRLT-FM and WRLG-FM, the October issue of Bone announced that it would be its last after 11 years of providing readers with in-depth coverage of rock ‘n’ roll. It’s unknown at this time whether the publication’s owners plan on resurrecting Bone anytime in the future.

Bone began life as The Metro, founded by original owner Gus Palas in 1985 as a biweekly publication. Palas later changed the frequency to monthly, increased its circulation and began distributing each issue regionally. The Metro rapidly became the Southeast’s premiere music magazine, providing coverage to a growing regional music scene. Advertising revenue was always a problem for the young publication, however, and after putting out 100 issues on a shoestring budget, Palas sold The Metro to Tuned In Broadcasting in 1992.

Under the guidance of publisher Ned Horton, The Metro began to thrive. Affiliated with Tuned In’s WRLT-FM, the magazine underwent a graphic facelift and editorially became much more national in scope. The name was changed to Bone Music Magazine with the 8th anniversary issue in 1993. A subsequent distribution deal with the Nashville-based Cat’s Records chain allowed the publication to reach new territories. Horton further expanded the publication’s reach by creating affiliations between Bone and other alternative radio stations nationwide.

At its peak, Bone was publishing nine varying editions with over 200,000 copies distributed monthly in dozens of markets, including Atlanta and Seattle. For nine months, the staff of Bone also produced a weekly supplement to Nashville’s Tennessean newspaper. Called T-Bone, it offered a format similar to the regular magazine, and was inserted in each Friday’s entertainment section. A pilot for a Bone television show was also produced and broadcast on a local station last summer. The magazine began to suffer during the last year, however, as advertising sales remained stagnant and many of its radio affiliates began to question their involvement with the publication. “The Internet became our largest competitor,” says former publisher Horton. “Stations began to move towards the web.” Current and potential affiliates preferred to concentrate on making their presence felt in the new medium and, says Horton, “we didn’t have an electronic answer to offer them.” When Horton left Tuned In Broadcasting a few months ago, the publication lost its only champion.

I must admit a certain personal sadness in the passing of Bone. I was involved with the publication from the very beginning, enlisted by Gus Palas as The Metro’s first writer. Bone, like The Metro before it, enjoyed a better reputation outside of Nashville than locally, but its 11-year run made it the Southeast’s longest running music magazine. Feature articles introduced readers to talents like Jason & the Scorchers, Steve Earle, R.E.M., John Hiatt, Blues Traveler, and many others. Folks like Horton and Palas, Lisa Hays, Rebecca Luxford, Jody Lentz, Daryl Sanders, Andy Anderson, and the other editors and writers who were involved with The Metro/Bone through the years made a valuable contribution not only to Nashville’s music scene, but to the industry at large. Its presence will be missed.

Originally published by R Squared zine, 1997

Vintage Review: Jason Ringenberg’s Best Tracks and Side Tracks 1979-2007 (2008)

Jason Ringenberg is one of the nicest guys, if not the nicest guy, that you’ll ever meet. A devout family man, Ringenberg is polite to a fault, intelligent, and yet maddeningly humble. Yup, Jason meets the definition of “salt of the Earth” if anyone ever did. When I first met the man, back in ‘82, we sat in Jason’s West Nashville apartment with Scorchers’ guitarist Warner Hodges, talking and listening to music on a little record player.

The interview that came out of that night was published by CMJ’s Progressive Media magazine, possibly the first article on the Scorchers published on a national level. When we wrapped things up and Warner had driven off, Jason haltingly and embarrassingly asked me if I minded giving him a ride down to Kroger’s; I seem to even remember loaning him a couple of bucks to buy some fish sticks. Considering the great music and entertainment that Jason has provided since that night, it might have been the smartest investment of my life.

Jason’s all-around good nature makes his survival in the notoriously cutthroat music biz – an industry populated by sharks and sinners, snake-oil salesmen, bullies and thieves – all the more amazing. But survive Jason has, for some 30 years now, and he’s not only gotten by, he’s actually thrived in a business known for broken dreams and discarded souls. Amazingly, Jason actually seems to get nicer as the years fall off the calendar.  

Ringenberg came to Nashville in 1981 with the goal of finding like-minded musicians to pursue a shared musical vision. With a little help from the visionary Jack Emerson (R.I.P.), Jason was introduced to the guys that he’d spend the next decade playing alongside. Jason & the Nashville Scorchers unwittingly gave form to an entirely new genre of music. They didn’t set out to do so, but somewhere down the line, the Scorchers begat Uncle Tupelo, which in turn begat Son Volt and Wilco, which begat a glut of raving twang-bangers and roots-rock revivalists dubbed forever as the alt-country (a/k/a Americana) movement.

Jason Ringenberg’s Best Tracks and Side Tracks 1979-2007

When the Scorchers went on hiatus, Ringenberg launched his solo career in earnest with 2000’s A Pocketful of Soul. A folkish country-rock collection that Jason released independently, the album stripped the Scorchers’ high-octane sound down to a simple, elegant buzz (courtesy of guitarist George Bradfute and fiddle player Fats Kaplin). With more emphasis on his vocals and words than on the incendiary music that typically accompanied his lyrics with the Scorchers, Jason honed his already stiletto-sharp songwriting skills to a dangerous edge.

Two more Jason solo efforts followed A Pocketful of Soul – 2002’s All Over Creation and 2004’s Empire Builders, along with a pair of children’s records that Ringenberg recorded under his “Farmer Jason” nom de plume, as well as a Scorchers retrospective, Wildfires & Misfires. When the dust had settled and 2008 loomed on the horizon, Jason Ringenberg had survived three decades in the most dangerous bloodsport of them all – the music biz – and did so with talent and integrity both intact. With that in mind, Jason and his buddies over at Yep Roc put together Best Tracks and Side Tracks, a collection of Ringenberg solo material, outtakes, collaborations and rarities from 1979 to 2007. This two-CD compilation is divided into two parts: “Best Tracks,” featuring 20 songs culled from Jason’s three solo and two Farmer Jason albums, including a trio of new recordings; and “Side Tracks,” offering 10 rare, obscure songs and a couple of surprises that’ll have the hardcore fans running down to their local music vendor to procure a copy, pronto.  

The “Best Tracks” side of things kicks off with a pair of new recordings. A re-written version of the Scorchers’ gem “Shop It Around” suffers little from its reworking; if anything, the lyrics are more wistful, more pointed that previously. Featuring the always-reliable George Bradfute on guitar and Webb Wilder on backing vocals, this is Jason’s equivalent of Dylan’s “Positively Fourth Street.” It’s not as raucous, perhaps, as the original Scorchers’ version, but it has lost none of its power.

One Foot In the Honky Tonk

“The Life of the Party” is a similar love-gone-bad song, rescued from Jason’s lone major label album, 1992’s One Foot in the Honky Tonk. Re-recorded here because the original wasn’t available due to licensing problems, this harder-rocking version suits the song’s spirit better, with Bradfute holding down one end and drummer Fenner Castner making a big, beautiful noise at the other end. Jason’s duet with Steve Earle on Earle’s “Bible and A Gun,” from All Over Creation, is hauntingly sparse, with a high lonesome Fats Kaplin fiddle line punctuating the dark clouds of the lyrics.

“One Less Heartache,” a musical collaboration with England’s unpredictable Wildhearts, reminds me of the Del Lords or the Long Ryders, a solid roots-rockin’ tune with just enough twang to remind you that it’s Jason singing. In a good and just world, this could have been a big radio hit ‘cause it hits all the right chords and sounds great no matter what speakers that it’s blasting out of at the moment. “The Price of Progress,” from A Pocketful of Soul, is a favorite of mine, a mournful folk tale of a lone farmer versus the forces of profit, the song’s chilling lyrics supported by appropriately eerie fiddle and guitar tones.

“Prosperity Train,” a song by Illinois singer/songwriter Stace England with vocals by Jason and guitar by Bradfute, was pulled from England’s excellent 2005 album, Greetings From Cairo, Illinois. A rockabilly rave-up in Scorchers’ finery, it’s a fine way to familiarize oneself with the considerable lyrical talents of Mr. England. Offering a truly inspired vocal turn from Mr. Ringenberg, the song is part of a larger conceptual song cycle. A couple of socially-conscious songs from Empire Builders, “Tuskegee Pride” and “Chief Joseph’s Last Dream,” tackle sordid stories from America’s past with intelligence and emotion. Bradfute’s inspired guitarwork on “Tuskegee Pride” highlights Jason’s passionate vocals with an atmospheric tone. Ringenberg’s simple finger-picking on the latter song sets the stage for this tragic tale as Bradfute, Kaplin and drummer Steve Ebe create a moody thunderstorm behind Jason’s sorrowful vocals. A new recording of another Scorchers’ favorite, “Broken Whiskey Glass,” is performed by Jason and Illinois band the Woodbox Gang, the song transformed into a hillbilly romp with Appalachian instrumentation and dueling vocals from JR and the Gang’s Alex Kirt.  

The Sailor’s Eyes

Although there are several shining moments among the first disc’s 20 tracks, the second disc, “Side Tracks,” is the sort of hambone that brings flavor to the soup, if you know what I mean. “Lovely Christmas,” an odd duet with the lovely Kristi Rose is, as Jason readily admits, the most eccentric song that he’s ever put to tape. A country-punk mashup that alternates between Rose’s silky honky-tonk drawl and Jason’s manic, hurried vox, it’s a fun song that insightfully tramples over the holiday’s frenzied consumerism.

A new, unreleased song “The Sailor’s Eyes” may or may not be about Jason’s tenure with the Scorchers; it’s a fine lyrical metaphor nevertheless, with wistful vocals and a great Bradfute guitar line. With musician friend Arty Hill, Jason re-creates the Scorchers’ rockin’ “Cappuccino Rosie” live onstage as an acoustic country tearjerker complete with weeping fiddle. Years before the Scorchers, Jason fronted a band called Shakespeare’s Riot (great name!) in Carbondale, Illinois; that band’s original recording of what would become a Scorchers’ live fave, “Help There’s A Fire,” is a hoot – a sparse ‘50s throwback with a Duane Eddy beat and, as Jason describes it, a “cornpone Elvis rockabilly vocal.”

Another very cool Jason rarity here is a cover of John Prine’s classic “Paradise,” taken from a radio broadcast. A group effort, including R.B. Morris, Tom Roznowski and Janas Hoyt, the four vocalists do the song proud with a soulful, reverent reading. The set closes, appropriately, with another performance by Jason and the Wildhearts, a previously unreleased rave-up on “Jimmie Rodger’s Last Blue Yodel.” Evoking the Scorchers at their sweatiest, most raucous Exit/In performance, Mr. Ringenberg and the Wildhearts drive the train right off the tracks, smiling and rocking all the way into the abyss that lies below...

The Reverend’s Bottom Line

...and that, folks, is why Jason has remained so damn nice all these years. No matter the ups and downs, the hard knocks and career disappointments, the music is what has pulled him through. Jason has always sounded like he is sincerely happy and honored to be playing his music for us. His attitude is infectious, and it’s all over the 30 songs that you’ll find on Best Tracks and Side Tracks. (Yep Roc Records, released November 12, 2007)

Review originally published by Cashville411.com

Vintage Review: Jason & the Scorchers' Halcyon Days (2010)

The Reverend remembers watching…no, witnessing Jason & the Nashville Scorchers tear apart a local club – Cantrell’s, maybe the Exit/In – no matter, ‘cause those ol’ boys ripped it up like Link Wray and took that building apart brick by (figurative) brick. Nobody, and I mean nobody could take over a stage like Jason, Warner, Jeff, and Perry back in the day, and if you had the cajones and the stamina, they’d keep on rockin’ until every last punter had dropped to the floor…

Anarchy In The Music City

Yup, back during the early ‘80s in the Music City, rock ‘n’ roll was a man’s (and a few choice women’s) game, with bands fiercely rejecting the country music establishment that had hung the albatross of the cornpone Hee Haw image around the necks of we young soul rebels. Giants walked the dark streets and back alleys of Elliston Place and Eighth Avenue and East Nashville those days, outlaws like Raging Fire, the Dusters, Shadow 15, Webb Wilder, the Bunnies, and many more who took the stage each night determined not to quit rockin’ until the stinking cowtown corpse was permanently buried.

None of the musical giants of that era strode taller or played faster and louder than Jason & the Nashville Scorchers (the “Nashville” part was later dropped at the recommendation of some recordco dunce). They were not only the most popular band in town for a long time, one could make the argument that, for much of the world outside of Middle Tennessee, they were the only band that mattered.

The Scorchers were quite a spectacle, no matter what stage they conquered: while Jason yelped and danced and spun around like a dervish with pants on fire, Warner Hodges would play Keef to Jason’s Mick, tearing otherworldly sounds out of his guitar that had been previously unheard by human ears. Bassist Jeff Johnson was the epitome of cool, holding down the rhythm, while drummer Perry Baggs was a madman on the skins, bashing the cans like Tennessee’s own John Bonham while providing angelic harmony vocals behind Jason’s farm-bred Illinois twang.

More importantly, at least to us on the street, the drones on Music Row and the Nashville cultural establishment hated the Scorchers with a passion, viewing them as either the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, or as the end of everything good and green and holy about the city. Legend has it that famed Nashville deejay Ralph Emery turned his nose up at the Byrds when they played the Grand Ol’ Opry in 1967; a couple of decades later, the Scorchers damn near gave the poor man a heart attack. Back on Elliston Place, however, we knew the future of rock ‘n’ roll when we heard it, and as the band began to expand its circle to the Southeast, and then Europe with one fine record after another, it looked for a moment like our predictions of Scorchers world dominance might come true…

Jason & the Scorchers’ Halcyon Days

Sadly, Jason & the Scorchers never got the respect that they deserved; their records were under-promoted by the labels, or ignored in the hope that the band might just go away. Tensions grew dire within the band, members came and went, and by the time that grunge and the Seattle scene had wiped the slate clean, the Scorchers had fallen by the wayside. Although a mid-1990s Scorchers reunion would result in a pair of perfectly good studio albums and a live set that came as close as technology would allow to capturing the band’s anarchic onstage energy, it seemed as if stardom just wasn’t in the cards for Jason & the Scorchers.

Flash forward to 2010…the Kings of Leon are the new cocks on the walk, the first Nashville rockers to afford million-dollar homes, and it all seems so damn wrong. Sure, the local music scene still exists on some level, but every young new band seems to have its eye on the dollars and not the music, which is probably why old ‘80s warhorses like Royal Court of China, Shadow 15, the Bunnies, et al are drawing club crowds like it’s 1985 all over again, ‘cause the young ‘uns wanna rock, dammit! They want none of this TMZ bullshit and celebrity band status, just rock ‘n’ roll to feed the soul!

Into this vacuum step a reunited Jason & the Scorchers with Halcyon Times, the band’s first studio album in 14 years. Messrs. Ringenberg and Hodges still captain the ship, new guys Al Collins (bass) and Pontus Snibb (drums) are on board to man the rhythm section, and various musical contributions come from fellow travelers like former Georgia Satellites frontman Dan Baird, Brit-rocker Ginger of the Wildhearts, beloved Nashville icon Tommy Womack, and former Scorchers bandmate Perry Baggs, who provides his lively harmonies to several songs.

Somewhere on his Tennessee farm ol’ Jason must be hiding a damn time machine, because Halcyon Times sounds more like 1985 than 2010, the new album re-capturing the joyous abandon of early Scorchers’ discs like Reckless Country Soul or Fervor than anything they’ve done since. Sure, it may not have been recorded in Jack Emerson’s living room (R.I.P. Brother Jack), but Halcyon Times, produced by Hodges and Nashville pop-rock wunderkind Brad Jones, offers an energy and immediacy lacking in most modern recordings.

Moonshine Guy

The reasons behind the crackling livewire sound of the album comes from the presence of an audience watching the band record from behind glass, and the unlikely strategy of putting Jason live in the studio, singing along with the band…something seldom done with today’s Pro Tools dominated recording techniques. The result is an album that rocks like it was recorded in somebody’s living room, but sounds like a well-made studio creation.

The songs on Halcyon Times are among the best the Scorchers have ever delivered. The breakneck rocker “Moonshine Guy” is a paean to a certain kind of individual that, while not restricted to the South, is nevertheless a particularly Dixie-fried sort of character. With a punkish pace and intensity, Jason sings of the guy that “loves the Stones, hates the Doors/thinks the Beatles sing for girls/he’s a moonshine guy in a six-pack world,” his rapidfire vocals telling of the sort of last-century diehard who still yells “play Freebird” at any show he attends. A Celtic-flavored instrumental interlude in the middle, titled “Releasing Celtic Prisoners,” provides just enough relief for the band to charge back in to conclude the song.

Although “Moonshine Guy” could be dismissed by some slackjaw critics as a novelty, it’s really just a comic intro to a serious, joyful, and reckless set of songs that show why the Scorchers, 25 years after their debut, retain a fiercely loyal following from Lawrence, Kansas to London, England and points beyond. The collaborative songwriting efforts on Halcyon Times have produced some stellar results. Despite the contemporary production values, the raging “Mona Lee” sounds like vintage Scorchers with Hodges’ six-string gymnastics and Jason’s country soul vocals accompanied by fluid bass lines and crashing drumbeats.  

The folkish “Mother of Greed” features some of Jason’s best vocals, the song possessing an ethereal quality as the lyrics recount the passage of time and cash-grab progress. The Hodges/Dan Baird guitarwork here is simply gorgeous, their instruments intertwined in a beautiful melody until Hodges cuts loose with a magnificent solo. The vocal harmonies provide a gauzy, otherworldly quality to the mix. The album-closing “We’ve Got It Goin’ On” is the sort of song that the Scorchers based their rep on, only writ large for the 21st century. With shotgun lyrics delivered at 100mph above chaotic instrumentation that echoes 1960s garage-rock intensity, Jason spits out almost stream-of-consciousness lyrics that are nevertheless intriguing: “does an empire falling ever make a sound?”; “diggin’ down in the here and now ‘til tomorrow is yesterday”; “blacking out on a rush of pain kind of felt like home to me.” I’m not sure what it all means, but it rocks and that’s good enough for me!  

Twang Town Blues

For all the band’s protestations that they wanted to make a record that was forward-looking, the past casts a long shadow across Halcyon Times. The Scorchers, after all, were the great white hopes of cowpunk; the critical darlings with a cult following that were one song away from mainstream mega-stardom. Although Ringenberg and Hodges have certainly come to grips with their near-brush with infamy, somewhere deep inside them it has to chafe just a bit…on many nights, the Scorchers were the best rock ‘n’ roll band in the land, the Replacements and other pretenders to the throne be damned.

As such, Halcyon Times includes many subtle, and some not-so-so subtle references to days gone by, such as the inclusion of the nearly-subliminal line from “Hot Nights In Georgia” that serves as a kick-off to the second part of “Moonshine Guy.” The rockabilly-tinged “Getting’ Nowhere Fast” could be the band’s theme song, a runaway instrumental freight train with Jason singing “we’re getting nowhere fast faster than we’ve ever been, we’re getting nowhere fast put the pedal to the metal again.” In many ways, the song is a statement of defiance, and a gleeful one at that.

“Golden Days,” from which the album takes its name, is a look backwards that charts the progress of a fictional protagonist through the years, meaningful lyrics matched by another solid vocal performance and a timeless pop-rock soundtrack with an infectious chorus. The darkly humorous “Twang Town Blues” is the story of the Scorchers and every other wild-eyed dreamer that landed in Nashville, or L.A., or New York in search of fame and fortune. Telling the story of several such hopefuls with talking blues vocals resting above a menacing swamp-rock theme, the line “tonight he’ll kill a six-pack just to watch it die” shouts out to Johnny Cash and Nashville’s checkered musical history with eerie effect.   

Co-written by Dan Baird with an eye specifically towards the Scorchers, “Days of Wine and Roses” is the story of Jason and Warner and their often complicated relationship. In many ways the song is the heart of Halcyon Times, Jason singing “like a soldier that doesn’t know that it’s time to go home, and if there’s no one else to hoist the flag, well I’ll go it alone” with a world-weariness that only 25 years in the music biz can bring. Warner’s guitar tones are mesmerizing, bringing a bright, emotional edge to the lyrics as Jason sings “the days of wine and roses they are long dead and gone, carry on, carry on…” The song positions the Scorchers – and specifically Jason and Warner – as the veterans they are, old soldiers that refuse to go quietly into that good night.

If “Days of Wine and Roses” is the heart of Halcyon Times, then the pop-tinged rocker “Better Than This” serves as the album’s soul. With Warner singing in a voice that is as distinctively hard rock in nature as Jason’s is earthy country twang, the song delights in the unbridled joy of making music. Above a raucous soundtrack with some red-hot guitarwork, Warner sings “someday you just might find/as you’re looking back in time/it gets good but it don’t get better than this.” No matter the band’s trials and tribulations, minor successes, and failures, it all fades away once they hit the stage.

The Reverend’s Bottom Line

Released independently by the band, Halcyon Times is unlikely to set the charts on fire, although it’s certainly one of the best rock albums that will be released in 2010. Sensing that it might be the band’s last stand – or at least their last physical CD in an increasingly digital world – the Scorchers have put together a beautiful CD package that includes great graphics, and a thick booklet full of lyrics, photos, and liner notes sure to thrill the hardcore faithful.

It’s the music that counts, though, and here Jason & the Scorchers and friends have delivered in spades. The album combines the reckless energy and enthusiasm of their youth with the cautious optimism and mature talent of veteran musicians. With Halcyon Times, the band rocks harder and sounds better than they ever have. The Scorchers may be going nowhere fast, but they’re having a hell of a time doing so… (Courageous Chicken/NashVegas Flash, released February 19th, 2010)

Review originally published by Blurt magazine, 2010