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15 December 2007
Twangy duets of lovin', leavin' and everything in betwe
The country duet is a long venerated tradition most famously fueled by the tension of a marriage (George & Tammy, Johnny & June), family (Delmores, Louvins, Everlys, Kendalls), or long-standing professional relationship (Porter & Dolly). Many recent duets, in country, hip-hop and beyond seem to be sales events rather than actual artistic confluences. Still, in between marriages, families and marketing wet-dreams sit one-off partnerships built from the chemistry of friendship and shared musical values. Such is the pairing of honky-tonk maverick Jesse Dayton with newcomer Brennen Leigh, mixing originals and covers that bring out the conversational thrill of duet work.
Dayton sings in a low voice that shades to Jones and Jennings, while Leigh's background leans to bluegrass and gospel; Dayton provides the salty anchor to Leigh's sass on covers of George & Tammy ("Somethin' to Brag About") and Johnny & June ("Long Legged Guitar Pickin' Man"). Leigh sings in the same range as fellow Austinite Kelly Willis, and her twang is surprisingly effective given her origins in the northern reaches of Minnesota. Dayton's baritone shaves the adolescence from The Everly Brothers "Brand New Heartache."
The album's originals keep this from turning into a simple exercise in nostalgia. The rollicking two-step tex-mex opener, "Let's Run Away," finds Datyon and Leigh singing in tandem, dreaming of leaving their problems as they escape to the four corners of the world. They taunt each other as they try to dance away bad memories on "Two Step Program," and put on false appearances to cover the broken romance of "Everything Looks Good (On the Outside)." The album's twangy moments include the up-tempo banjo bluegrass of "Somethin' Somebody Said" and the bittersweet ballad "We Hung the Moon." The latter sports superb Santo & Johnny styled pedal steel in support of vocals that arch plaintively into falsetto.
If Faith & Tim aren't you're idea of a real country duet (and recent collaborations between Caitlin Cary & Thad Cockrell and Rick Shea & Patty Booker are more your cup of Texas tea), this is a disc worth your attention. [©2007 redtunictroll at hotmail dot com]
27 May 2008
A startling fine country-folk-rock re-debut
This Texas-based singer-songwriter has released four albums over the past decade, with a five year work-and-school hiatus between 2002’s “Right Here and Now” and the local release of this disc back in 2007. Like many who travel within the self-contained universe that is Texas country music, he emerges into the national spotlight with a lot more depth and polish than listeners expect to hear in their first brush with an artist. But four albums into his career, Temple’s a memorable songwriter with a country-folk-rock sound that has the sort of sing-a-long middle-American earthiness of John Mellancamp’s hits and Steve Earle’s Guitar Town. Lloyd Maines’ production keeps Temple’s lyrics and voice as the central motor, but guitarist David Grissom is given space to add some hot-shot electric licks.
The album opens with Temple’s clever consideration of matrimony, advising a querulous groom with frank humor about the yin and yang of married life. The pains of love are also essayed in “I Can’t Quit Loving You,” in which the protagonist enumerates all the bad habits he’s given up, save the one in the title. Bad love and love gone bad are the themes of “Red Wine and Tequila” and “Like We Still Care,” respectively; the former is a bluesy tune that offers a bar-lit realization that some relationships are as ill-fitting as a bad combination of spirits, while the latter is a clear-eyed look at the chilly end of a failed relationship. Another couple’s ending is rendered in clever analogy as the carnage of a “Demolition Derby.”
Temple can turn from clever to funny, yet still remain touching. He chronicles a stage-frightened amateur on “Can’t Drink Enough to Sing,” and laments the re-categorization of Pluto as a non-planet by way of Gary Coleman’s fall from stardom (“a trip from the top to rent-a-cop can make you feel insecure”). The album closes with two of its strongest songs. “Rivers Run From Many Waters” is a mid-tempo fiddle waltz (with some terrific electric guitar from David Grissom) that opens with the evocative couplet “My great grandfather was a rake and rambler / Good with the women but not a good gambler,” before working down the family tree to his grandfather, father and son. Closing the disc is the traveling musician hoe-down “On the Lonesome Road,” featuring some fine acoustic flat picking. This album is a real treat for anyone seeking honest country music with folk and rock sides, unaffected by both Nashville’s commercial intentions and alt.country’s anti-Nashville response. [©2008 redtunictroll at hotmail dot com]
29 August 2008
Northeast garage band refinds their mojo after 45 years
Forty-five years after the original lineup of little-known Northfield, Vermont garage band fell apart, they're back, and damned if they don't sound good. And by good, I mean gritty, sloppy, frenetic, proud, tough and all manner of adjectives not usually applied to a quintet of sixty-year-old rockers. Formed among the thriving (yet isolated) scene encompassing Northfield, VT and Plattsburgh, NY, Mike & The Ravens offered up the sound of 1962: pre-Beatles DIY rock recorded in a cavernous roller rink and free of the trend-driven straightjacket radio would eventually impose. The results held more in common with the savage sounds of the Pacific Northwest than the sides waxed in Chicago or Los Angeles, and the band became local heroes. The group's original recordings can be found on the scene compilations "Heart So Cold: The North Country '60s Scene" and "Cry of Atlantis: The North Country Scene '58-'67, Vol. 2," and the group omnibus "Nevermore: Plattsburgh '62 and beyond."
The group compilation follows the Ravens principles, lead vocalist Mike Brassard and songwriter Stephen Blodgett, from their initial meeting in the Ravens through a variety of '60s and '70s bands that ranged from early frat rockers through psych-tinged sunshine pop. In these new sessions, recorded in 2006 and 2007, Brassard and Blodgett reunite with the other three original Ravens (Bo Blodgett-lead guitar, Brian Lyford-bass and Peter Young-drums) to stomp convincingly around the Point Rouses, NY club that hosted their state debut over forty years earlier. The results find plenty of howl left in their voices, growling fuzz in their strings, and a rhythm section that can still crank up the heart-pounding excitement you'd expect on a Saturday night. The band opens with their 1962-penned "Roller, Roller Rollerland!" and quickly reveals how they got the rink's floor bouncing up and down under the weight of bopping teens.
Stephen Blodgett's new songs retain the freewheeling spirit of his earlier work, but the unusual titles ("Sweet Potato Red Sez Polly Don't Ride" "Once I Was a Dancing Bear") and sly lyrics also speak to the his post-Ravens psych work. The band, particularly Bo Blodgett on guitar, also reach past 1962 for some mid-60s garage and fuzz sounds. You still get the grunting energy of classic frat-rock, but layered with some brain-buzzing guitar and off-center lyrics. The claxon intro to "Who Will Love You" is an apt warning of the onslaught to come, and the carnivorous howl of "She Wolf" fleshes out its story of a man-eater. The album closes with the seven minute title track, and though stretched to hippie ballroom length, the group never loses its raucous engine room chug of guitars and vocals. The band's early singles are highly prized among collectors, but often regarded as not having captured the band's true vitality; forty-five years later, the Ravens make the most of their second chance. [©2008 redtunictroll at hotmail dot com]